


Transmutation

by Snowden



Series: Olivine Canon [3]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 15:50:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1863507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowden/pseuds/Snowden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Transmutation: turning one thing to another. From anger to calm, hatred to acceptance, ignorance to wisdom, revenge to redemption; a bitter, one-sided rivalry will become the catalyst to change a boy into a man. Short series, rated M for language and violence. Feel free to read and review.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hatred

My knuckles stand out against the dark interior emanating from behind the glass. They become white, the strain of exertion putting pain through their joints, stretching the skin until it's tight against the bone. Still, the window won't budge. It doesn't look like it's locked; merely the corrosion and accumulated grime of decades practically welded its seams shut.

"Damn," I muttered under my breath. "So this is the "famous" Professor Elm's Lab? Looks more like an old Rattata nest to me." I rebounded upon the sill, putting every ounce of strength into it. My muscles burst and gave out, and still the window barely budged a millimeter.

"I'll just have to come back with a hammer," I muttered to myself. For now, it's time to beat it. I turned and began sprinting away before anyone caught me spying in through the edifice. To my utter shock and chagrin, I didn't think of who might be snooping _behind_ me and ran head on into a solid object.

"Fuck! What the?!"

I was dropped to one knee, one hand rubbing my head and the other clutching my side. Before me another human being was sent toppling onto their butt from the impact.

A female.

"What are you staring at?" I growled.

She had to be the stupidest looking thing in existence. Her hat blossomed from her head like a toadstool, with two silly pigtails splitting out to either side. Overalls are the crude wardrobe choice of farmers and sewage workers, but she wore them all pretty-like, as if they were a fashion item. They were cut short, too, the rest of her legs covered in thigh-high socks that clashed with the rest of her tomboyish ensemble. What an ugly mish-mashed image she made of herself. And the most offensive feature of this woman? After recovering from the shock of the collision, she had the gall to _smile_ in my face.

"Hi! Sorry for peeping, but I thought it was strange for someone to be hanging out back here, so I got incredibly curious! I'm Lyra, what's your name?"

"Screw this," I spat out, and pushed past the woman, somewhat clumsily, so that I ended up bumping into her again.

A few more minutes, and I was safely out into the outskirts of town.

"Damn it!"

She'd better not tattle to the police about me! I'm going right back there, tonight. There's no way I'm passing up on the special stock of pokemon Elm just had delivered. Now, where can I pinch a hammer? And a towel, so I don't cut myself on the glass…

That night everything was going smoothly. There were no guards, no security systems, no one around. A few swings of the hammer made a mockery of my afternoon's efforts, and a jagged mess of the window. I clambered inside. The Pokéballs were in plain view, attached to a custom PC system. Two of the three slots were left occupied. Apparently someone had gotten lucky and took the first. No matter. It looked like it would be child's play to grab the remaining two.

"GrrrrRRRRRRARGH!" Okay, not child's play. The pokeball wouldn't budge from its slot.

I banged on the PC.

"Let go damn it!"

They must be magnetically locked to the machine. Even using the hammer as a pry bar, the bitchy little things would not move a millimeter. I banged the machine some more with the hammerhead, accidentally awaking it from sleep mode. It bleeped at me in a robotic, artificially friendly tone.

"To remove Magnetic Lock and Register this Pokémon, please enter Trainer Identification."

"Come on!" I put my hand to my jacket pocket, expecting to grab my wallet. There was nothing there. My pocket was empty.

"Damn it!"

It must have fallen out in the collision earlier.

I backtracked out the window, wincing as, despite the towel, more sharp bits of glass scratched into my sides.

"Where is it? Where is it?"

Despite all my searching, there was no hint or clue anywhere in the vicinity of the collision. What could possibly have happened to the damn thing?

"That girl!"

That ditz must have picked it up. Damn it! Damn it!

I can't remember being angrier in the past three years than I am now. Why does life have to shit on me most when I need things to just go right? Life, you suck!

I took a deep breath and calmed down. Even if it had my ID, the card itself was fake, a counterfeit. Even the name was a joke, taken from throwing darts at a periodic table of elements.

"So what if she calls me Silver?" I muttered. It's a cooler name than the insult that bastard put on my birth certificate.

Still, without the ID, how was I going to deal with the pokeballs? I mumbled it over while climbing back inside.

"Hey, PC?" I called out. "Are the pokeballs inside filled? Are the rare Pokémon actually inside of them?"

"Correct. However, without registering them with a Trainer ID, they will not be able to interact with the Universal PC System. Furthermore, such an act is considered a Class 1 Misdemeanor. Pleas-" but I had heard enough, and brought the hammer head slamming into the side of the apparatus. Sparks flew, the screen devolved into static, and the pokeballs dropped loose. Instantly an alarm sounded out.

"The f… They're lazy enough to leave the windows unguarded, but they rig the machine with security?!" I panicked. There was no telling how fast police or a worker would respond. Even if they were rare, these Pokémon weren't going to have any battle experience. And like hell they'd obey me before I whipped them into submission. Fighting the cops was out of the question. I needed to get as far away as possible.

"Damn it!" I shouted for what seemed like the hundredth time today. In a moment of clarity I rushed back to the machine, swiped the first pokeball I saw, and sprinted back to the window, kicking over machinery, papers, computers, and anything else in my way.

That stupid woman, that stupid grade-school girl was the cause of all this. What a dork! A ditz! If I ever see her again, I'll make her pay!

 

…Or so I thought on that frenzied night.

 

 

One week later, in the woods outside Cherrygrove City:

"You were the one who took that rare Pokémon? Whatever, a bitch like you wouldn't know how to raise them to their full potential. I'll crush a weakling like you!" It felt good to vent. It would feel better to curb-stomp this pretender into the dust. Maybe I'll give her a punch myself if she dares to cry once I'm done with her Pokémon. I threw out my own pokeball, confident the week's worth of brow-beating would put my Pokémon on a different level compared to hers.

"Totodile!"

"You called me a bitch! That's really mean!"

She's not crying… yet. But she is pouting. Good. Anger. That's the first step to becoming stronger. Maybe she'll learn how to be tough, like me, in time. But she's a woman, so she'll never catch up.

" _Cynda_!" her Pokémon cried. It heard its trainer's distressed tone and leapt forward, as if it wanted to defend her. How pathetic. It'd better spend more time worrying about itself.

Judging by the red-hot bristles stickling out across its back, it looks like a Fire-type. Even better. I have a total type advantage. This is going to be cake-walk.

"Fire-types are weak. They have no consistency. They rage and then they burn out, showing nothing for all their huff and puff. Totodile, Water Gun!"

My Totodile cringed at the sound of my voice, and then obeyed, letting loose a gout of water. Without even being told, the Cyndaquil dodged left. Totodile fired again, and again Cyndaquil dodged left.

"Sweep the stream across its path! Don't let it dodge! It doesn't need to hit hard, just enough to knock the damn creature down! Then you can hit it full force!" My Pokémon tried criss-crossing the field of battle with a Water Gun. Little gouts of water shot into the air, creating a soft mist. Yet, when the vapor disappeared, Cyndaquil was nowhere to be seen.

"Did it annihilate the Pokémon?" I wondered, astounded. "No, it dodged by digging. Hey, Totodile! What are you doing? Don’t loaf around or I'll beat you again!" The Pokémon shrank under the threat. It had better not cower like that for long, or else I'll do way worse than beat it. Let's see how the weakling handles getting tossed into the wilderness for a few days, then we'll see if it wished it had fought harder.

" _Toto!_ "

Ah good. It is afraid of me, like it should be. I'm the human. I'm the master. We're the fucked-up, arrogant bastards who rule this world. Pokémon are tools to be used by us. They should fear us. Fear will make them obey. Obedience will make them stronger. Strength will redeem their stupidity.

Yeah. There's nothing holy in this world. You want even a morsel of peace? You have to seize it with power. Humans, Pokémon, it doesn't matter. All that matters is the power to control your own destiny, even if it means taking power from others so they don't try to control _you_.

"Water gun into the hole! Flush it out!" I commanded.

" _Toto!_ " It waddled over to the hole and sucked in a deep breath, preparing a major Water Gun.

"Cynda! Don't die!" the woman screeched. Is she stupid? Totodile will hurt Cyndaquil, brutalize it, but this won't possibly kill the Pokémon. They're tougher than that. Tougher than you, you stupid bitch.

" _Toto dooo! **SQSHHHHH**_ **!** " A jet of water flew into the tunnel, blasting rows of geysers in a straight line where it broke the tunnel up.

"Where are you headed?"

Where did Cyndaquil dig to? My eyes traced the line of geysers as they meandered across the field. The path narrowed. My eyes narrowed, then went wide. The geysers were headed straight towards me.

"WOAAAGH!" I tried jumping, in vain. The ground under me fell away. One foot sunk two feet underground, getting buried in the heavy, damp earth. Cyndaquil popped out. I had to hold up my arms to avoid getting scratched in the face.

"Egh!" I wanted to try to bat the pest away, but was too slow. It launched itself off my forearm and towards Totodile. My useless Pokémon wavered, and then began running away.

"Totodile! You get back here and finish that pest off or else!" The implied threat worked. Totodile turned and let loose several Water Guns. None could hit the nimbly-dodging Cyndaquil. It dashed into close range and unleashed an Ember. The attack was not very effective damage-wise, but was good enough to disorient the Water-type.

"It's right there! Get it!" I screamed.

"Cyndaquil! Finish it!" the girl yelped in excitement. Cyndaquil let loose a Fury Swipe. It slashed into Totodile's belly, pranced aside while dodging another Water Gun, and repeated the pattern. Totodile was at a loss, completely unable to keep up. Even as the ground around it turned into a miniature bog, Cyndaquil still managed to outmaneuver the Water Guns at point blank range and deliver additional Fury Swipes.

How?

HOW WAS THIS POSSIBLE?!

"Oh cool! Quick Attack and Fury Swipes together! You're smart Cynda! Keep going!" the girl urged her Pokémon onward.

It didn't take long. I could only watch in helpless rage as my Pokémon succumbed to the barrage of strikes from the unhittable opponent.

As Totodile lay defeated, I groused to myself.

She's staring at me. She's got that look in her eyes. The same look they all gave me. Not fear. Of course not. I was pathetic. I couldn't win. Not hate either. I could understand hatred. Being hated came hand-in-hand with being powerful.

No, she was pitying me. Looking down on me. Making me feel like a fucking kid.

"You bitch! Don't think this was anything but a fluke. You just happen to have a fucking genetically strong Pokémon. We'll see who gets who once I've had a chance to train!"

"How old are you?" the girl said. I sneered at her in reply. She continued. "You don't look any older than me. Kids like us shouldn't use that kind of nasty language."

"Fuck you!"

"Sorry. I look forward to battling you again… I just hope you can find some way of getting stronger without threatening your Pokémon."

"Worry about your own training. You'll need it," I said to her, in the most threatening, vile voice I could imitate.

Who does she think is? This woman is just like the rest of her accursed gender. Just like the rest of her accursed, bloody species. Just like the rest of this accursed, fetid universe. A sore spot, a blind, pathetic, weakling that refuses to acknowledge the way of things.

If she won't see her decrepit place in this accursed universe, she won't ever be able to change it.  No one ever will. I'll have to show her. I'll become strong, the strongest trainer that ever lived. Better than Lance. Better than Professor Oak ever was. Better than the legendary Wash, Liya, Abram, Cynthia, Alder, and Monica. Even that god-trainer Loft. They'll be making myths about me, not him! Even better than the undefeated king of battling himself, the great Steven Stone. When I'm done NO ONE will fail to recognize and respect me. Then I can change things.

And I'll start with this ugly, embarrassing example of the human race right before me. I swear it. Soon…

 

* * *

 

That was back then. I had no idea. No clue. Over the course of the year, travelling all over Johto, trying to get stronger, to find stronger Pokémon, to beat them into obedience, to put them through hellish training so that they could become stronger, putting myself through hellish study to learn every aspect about the Pokémon world… I could never beat her. Six battles later, and she had bested me at every turn.

I insulted her. I put her down. I threw all my rage and wrath at her. It only made her pity me more. It only made her Cyndaquil, and then Quilava, and then Typhlosion, stronger, more determined to take me down. I couldn't figure it out. I couldn't see what was wrong with myself.

I feel so incredibly stupid, looking back on it. All the rage I spent blaming everyone but the person who deserved it, and all the hatred I directed towards the universe when I could not admit that the thing I hated the most was myself and my own life.


	2. Revenge

"What the hell are you doing? You didn't actually join Team Rocket did you?" I was aghast. There she was, that twerp, dressed head to toe in the black and white space-fashion uniform. "Are they so desperate they'll let even YOU into their ranks? Utterly ridiculous."

"Um, who, me? I'm, um… Luna Black! I'm a veteran Team Rocket member, and really strong, so don't mess with me! I'll mess you up! Yeah! So just go and play somewhere else kid, and let me just sneak- I mean invade the radio tower!" She donned a childishly fierce grin, which I presumed was supposed to intimidate me. What a load of shit. It's stupidly obvious who she really is, and the fact that she's trying to hide it from me means she doesn't respect me enough to recognize me… or else she's stupid beyond the physical limits of human idiocy. Then again, this is a woman we're talking about. Who knows what driveling logic runs through her head to make her think such a bluff was going to work?

"Lyra, you…!"

"Hey! Don't come closer, or I'll be forced to use my nasty, mean, cruel, powerful Pokémon!"

"Your Typhlosion doesn't scare me anymore. I know how to counter it," I told her defiantly.

"I don't have a Typhlosion!" she squeaked.

We were before Goldenrod Radio Tower and a crowd had gathered at its entrance. A slew of Rocket Grunts were warding off the public, using weapons and Pokémon to hold them at bay. Police sirens were sounding all over the city, increasing with every minute. Those Rocket assholes were pulling something big. A few of them at the entrance noticed me and Lyra. They saw Lyra's get-up and started walking over, presumably to help their "comrade".

"You're not going to fool anyone here," I shouted, lunging forward suddenly, anger in my eyes. I only intended to drag her to the ground, but the shoddy fabric ripped apart in my hands. The girl was left half-naked, with parts of her undergarments showing. Her hands shot up to her bra, throwing away any pretense of toughness.

"Why'd you do that?" she asked… but not in an accusatory manner. More like shocked… and curious.

The pair of grunts stopped midway, staring at the disrobed lady before them. Their astonished looks turned to laughter, and then to jeers. Once their humor was over, they jaunted up to us.

"Some pipsqueak think they can put on a T-shirt and a big fat 'R' and that lets them play with the big boys? How pathetic!" the senior of the grunts exclaimed. "I think we need to teach the children a lesson. How about you, Jedon?"

"Yep, babies belong in a crib. Hospital crib. Let's send them there, Vice."

"Vice" and "Jedon" readied their pokeballs. Just from a casual glance, they had two pokeballs each, and one held a police baton in his pocket. That's all they were armed with. I could settle this one on my own.

"You're right that she's a baby, but that's still infinitely better than mindless trash like you," I mouthed off to them. This was a street brawl, not a Pokémon match, and I wasn't about to give them the chance to pull a fast one on me. Feraligatr was out and charging them within a second. Jedon didn't even have time to release his pokeballs before his arm was caught in my Pokémon's powerful jaws. There was an audible 'snap!' as his forearm bone was broken. Even still, the asshole would get off easy with just a bone fracture. Feraligatr was holding back. If I had ordered it, the grunt would be clutching a bleeding stump right now.

"Golbat! Raticate!"

"Heh." The other Rocket had let out his Pokémon, which darted off in different directions. "Golbat!" I called, releasing my own poisonous bat. The two faced off, firing off Confuse Rays and Glares before engaging in mangled, mid-air combat.The oversized rat changed vectors suddenly and ran hissing towards me.

"Flamethrower!" The Raticate was brought to a halt by a searing-hot billow of ash and fire crossing its path. Its hissing reached a crescendo.

I took a glance over my shoulder. Lyra had abandoned modesty and was busy directing her Typhlosion. Why the hell was she defending me? I don't need help from a weakling like her!

Yet, it was impossible not to take advantage of it. The one called Jedon managed to release a Koffing. The trainer and its Pokémon wrestled with Feraligatr, to no avail.

"I want him alive," I commanded my Pokémon. Meanwhile, my Golbat disengaged from its aerial combat to harass Vice. When the enemy Golbat pursued, it received an Ice Punch and Thunderpunch to the face, simultaneously. Typhlosion and Sneasel, respectively, KO'd the thing.

It was a matter of a single minute before the criminals were forcefully subdued. My sniveling, bleeding-heart, unwanted ally merely wanted to chase them off. I had other ideas, and personally beat their faces in with my bare fists. My fury only relented when blood starting painting my knuckles.

"You're too brutal," Lyra said reproachfully.

"You're too soft," I spat back at her. I grabbed the fallen baton from the asphalt. "What the hell do you think this is? It's a weapon! They weren't going to just faint our Pokémon and leave it at that. We'd be lucky to make it to the hospital, instead of a morgue! This is real life, you dumb, damned girl!"

She shrank back away from me, scared of my shouting and my waving around of the heavy metal stick.

"Silver…"

"What!"

"Why are you fighting them?" she asked softly. I kept my lips sealed shut. There's no way I'm going to explain myself to her. She wouldn't understand it, dumb as she is, let alone empathize!

"You're as bad as them, but you still fight them," she said. "It makes me think…"

"What?!" I shouted. She wilted and didn't continue her line of thought.

"What?" I repeated, in a more level voice.

After a few aborted utterances, she finally gathered herself.

"It makes me think you're fighting for something… or someone. A cause. You're really, really mean, and use all kinds of foul words and you treat your Pokémon poorly. But I don't think you're selfish, or greedy, or malevolent. Maybe you're just angry. Why are you angry with them? With me?"

"Damn you," I said, gritting my teeth. "Don't you start that quack on me. Get out of here! Get away from me!"

"Lyra!"

That dork appeared out of the radio tower entrance. He was preceded by the flying bodies of several grunts, catapulted skyward by his Azumarill.

"Ethan!"

That idiot. He's no better than her. Too much wise-cracking, joking, and goof-balling. Overactive imagination sometimes. I'd smash his face in if I could find an excuse. The pair of dweebs linked up, arm in arm, celebrating their reunion like it was their wedding anniversary.

"I've got a key card," he said, showing off a badge on a neck-strap. "It goes underground. We should go give this to the police, I think it's where they're keeping the hostages."

"What were you doing?"

"Ha! I was talking to Trenton, the radio engineer, about the Lake of Rage stuff, and then all the Rockets stormed into the building. We hid out until their numbers thinned and then I fought my way back down here. I met a strong one, Proton he called himself. Still beat him, and pulled this off of him."

"You didn't kill anyone, did you?" Lyra asked.

"Of course not! I'm the best, after all!"

"Heh, you braggart. Anyways, that card! Let's go rescue the hostages!"

"No, we should let the police do that. The Rockets there might have guns," Ethan explained.

"All the more reason! If they have guns, they might shoot the hostages!" Lyra was looking desperate. She turned to me, as if expecting support for her cause.

As if!

Seriously, brat, you should be worried about yourself if the bastards are packing heat. Your Typhlosion is freakishly strong, I'll admit, but that won't save it from an ounce of lead puncturing its braincase!

"We need to go help them as fast as possible!"

"Um…. well…. okay." The boy hung his head, probably mulling over how suicidal he felt. He turned towards me.

"Hey! You're Silver, right?"

"Yeah, what of it, twerp?"

"Ah! Hostile as always… Um, could you contact the authorities for us? We're heading straight for the Goldenrod Underground. Tell them the Rockets might have prisoners."

"Piss off. I'm going hunting," I said over my shoulder, as I began stomping towards the tower.

"Hunting? For what?" Lyra called out.

"For revenge," I said.

 

* * *

 

Right. Revenge. For what? For something that had nothing to do with these low-level foot soldiers? Did I really expect that bastard to be there? Perhaps not. But the executives might know where he's hiding. They might have a clue. Then I could track him down and give him the comeuppance he's been owing me for fifteen years now.

I didn't know much back then. Well, I was smart, and clever, and well-schooled. I knew a lot of facts, trivia, street smarts. I could've written a book on Pokémon battles and tactics. No, what I lacked was wisdom, the ability to see things clearly, what had to be valued, what had to be protected, and what could be let go. My shitty childhood, my need for revenge, those are things I could have parted with. I didn't find out this truth until it was too late.


	3. Power

The ruined remains of machinery lay piled all around me. In the distance, what was once a radio tower sat in a jumbled heap strewn halfway across the field. The road back to Mahogany Town was blocked off by burning vehicles. Although, it wouldn't matter even if it was clear, the bridge further on had been ripped in half by a Waterfall attack. Half the subterranean base had collapsed in on itself, and the other half was on fire. You would think such a dangerous environment would be the last place a sane human wanted to stick around, but I wasn't perfectly sane. This literal hellhole was exactly where I wanted to be.

"Where is he?" I spat out through gritted teeth.

The half-alive form of Archer tried dragging itself away. I put my boot on his ankle, halting any further egress. The so-called "man" yowled in pain.

"Where is he?" I demanded again, voice cold, nerves tense, mind focused.

He whimpered. My boot came off, and again he tried to escape, with all the speed of a Slugma. Obviously pain wasn't teaching this fool to respect me. Time to change tactics. I let him continue crawling, and kept pace alongside him. Occasionally his head turned aside, looking at my boots and ankles, as if expecting to be kicked and thrashed at any moment.

Feraligatr was opposite me, also stalking Archer.

"Where do you think you're going?" I called out. My foot went flying, aimed at his face. He flinched. The boot missed, deliberately, swinging by a mere inch in front of his brow. "Gonna go cry to your boss? Huh? Can't handle a little teenaged brat? Hell, even sissy Lyra is scarier than you. Looking at you now, who'd think you were the great Archer, senior admin of the fearsome Team Rocket. I don't know whether to laugh or wretch, so I think I'll just beat you up some more."

I took a step, planted straight into the small of his back, and walked over him. His chest flattened to the ground, and he heaved a sputtered, sickened breath. I turned and brought myself down to his level, grabbed him by the hair, and jerked his head upward.

"Where is he?"

"G… g… go to hell," he gasped.

"You're pretty loyal for a criminal. Why's that? You think he'll protect you? You think he'll appreciate your silence?"

Blank, thoughtless eyes met my own.

"You don't know a thing about Giovanni," I told him. I forced his head to tilt aside, showing him the collapsed radio tower. "You're already a failure in his eyes. He won't tolerate shit like that. You're dead. Doesn't matter if I let you off now. Doesn't even matter if I haul you in front of a police station. He'll find you, and he'll erase you, just for using his organization and his name for your own ends. The fact that you failed; let yourself get beaten by a kid, that's icing. You're dust, that's all you are now. Dust. So maybe your only hope here is to open your pie-hole and tell me where he is, and I'll take him out."

"He's u-"

Archer tried gasping something, but it was too soft, I couldn't hear it. I put my ear up to his mouth, to try to make out what he was saying.

"Up your ass," he whispered, and then lunged, catching my ear between his teeth. Pain shot through my cartilage.

"FUCK!" I clutched my ear, strolled away, and then came flying back in vengeance. A great big soccer kick met his ribcage dead-on, flipping him onto his back. A second great swing brought my foot into the side of his head.

"FUCK YOU!"

I fell on top of him, clutched his throat in my hands and began squeezing.

With a last big heave, he threw up his arms and ripped my hold loose. For a short minute we were stuck in stalemate. Our muscles tensed, strained, unable to gain leverage while our strength lasted. His lips twisted into a smile.

"Die you son of a bitch!" I roared.

"Funny, hearing that from a real son of a bitch!" he said. In fury I bore down, renewing my stranglehold and putting my weight into it. Archer sputtered, flailed, but he no longer had the strength to oppose me.

That's it. Die. Die! Go to hell you pissant monster! You deserve this! The countless atrocities you've committed upon equally atrocious humans and Pokémon makes you a fair target for my wrath! You want to beg? You want to call me amoral?! Fuck off! You and everyone else are perfect examples of what a fucking farce morality is. The only thing that matters is strength, and right now, I'm stronger than you. My Pokémon beat your Pokémon. And I'm going to kill you.

"Stop!"

"Fucking die!"

"Get off him!"

Two hands grabbed me by the shoulders and lifted me straight up. I found myself being twirled around and thrown to the ground. A skyscraper of a man towered over me. I scooted backwards, into the relatively safe vicinity of Feraligatr.

"Lance," I said, reacting with disgust.

"What were you doing?! Did you intend on killing this man?!"

"So what if I was? He's not innocent, he's got blood on his hands. I'm just turning his shitty world view back on him!"

"That's no excuse for murder!" Lance fired back.

"Fuck it! Feraligatr! Finish that scum!"

I sent Feraligatr charging in. An ultra ball went flying through the air, releasing a Dragonite. The Dragon-type was huge, dwarfing even my brutish Pokémon. It met Feraligatr with both arms and shoved it backwards, with enough force to send Feraligatr halfway back to me. 

It was only a Force Palm. This dopey giant thought it could play nicely, stop us without hurting us. How naïve.

"Ice Fang!" White-misted breath poured out of my Pokémon's maw. It charged forward again, lunging and snapping at the Dragonite's limb. The Dragonite instinctively bobbed, and then rolled its torso, bring its limb down on Feraligatr's head like a sledgehammer.

"Hydro Jet!" I yelled. Feraligatr aimed a Hydro Pump directly into the ground, propelling it upwards like a rocket. The same motion caught the Dragonite full in the belly, lifting both of them skyward. Feraligatr followed through, using a further water-jet to boost it even higher. The pair was three stories into the air now.

"Seismic Toss!"

"Thunder!"

Feraligatr grappled Dragonite and tried to whip it around like a sling. Dragonite countered the motion with a powerful flap of its wings, arresting the arc and countering Feraligatr's motion mid-air. The clouds above us lit up, crackled, and an enormous column of light dropped down onto the combatants. An ear-splitting crack rang out, and it was over.

My Pokémon was fried.

Damn it!

"Are you done?" Lance asked.

I gritted my teeth.

"Feraligatr, Crunch!"

Lance's focus shifted upwards, taken aback that Feraligatr could have survived the Thunder attack. Whether my Pokémon managed to stay conscious in the face of a super-effective electrical bolt from the heavens, I didn't know or care. I only needed the momentary distraction.

Two more flashes of light. Granbull and Sneasel materialized in front of me. Together we sprinted forward in formation.

"Jaws, stall the fag; Sneasel, help me rip up the Rocket shit!"

Lance looked down in shock. A mean, pink pile of muscle was headed straight for him, practically in his face already. Meanwhile, my target was still splayed out on his back. I scooped up a rock, and Sneasel brandished his claws. We were mere feet away. It would be quick, almost painless, nothing like the agonizing death I had originally planned for this monster, but it'd have to do.

"Stop!" Lance shouted.

"No."

"Stop him!"

The air in front of me exploded. My ears rang, as if a gun had been fired off an inch away from them. The ground rose up, or rather, a cloud of dust, dirt, and rock formed a wall between me and Archer. A trench separated me from the Rocket admin, cutting off my approach.

The same phenomena blasted the ground behind me as well. I was cut off.

A massive shadow hung over Sneasel and I. I made the mistake of looking up instead of immediately dodging out of the way. For my error I was crushed under by a scaled body dropping from the sky. My chest was flattened beneath a two ton monster, and a clawed hand found my skull and held it firmly to the dirt.

A cry of pain escaped my lips. My eyes struggled to turn upwards, trying to glimpse my assailant. Out of my peripheral vision I caught sight of an orange, bulbous snout.

Another Dragonite. It must've used Extreme Speed to cut in front of me, plow the trench, and block me from reaching Archer. Now it had me pinned and I couldn't move a muscle. Sneasel, arms pinned to his side, was caught in the Dragonite's other claw.

A third Dragonite had Granbull by the nape of the neck and held aloft. The angry mutt kicked and barked, but could do no more.

The Thunder-seared form of Feraligatr hit the ground a little ways away. My Pokémon groaned in agony. Not fainted, but worse, critically injured and disabled.

I had failed.

"You bastard!" I screeched. "Let me go! Let me go! Let me go!"

The Dragonite pushed harder, not allowing me to even face the Drago Master and verbally rip him a new one.

"Silence!" Lance shouted in a commanding, reverberating voice. He approached my position and kneeled down on one knee in order to address me. "Can you fathom, can you even imagine how much trouble you are in?" he said to me.

"I don't give a fuck. I've been trouble from the moment I was born."

"Your youth is the only reason I am not throwing you to the courts. After seeing this," he waved to the destroyed base, "they wouldn't hesitate to try you as an adult. How long do you think a runt like you would last in prison? Certainly not the twenty years you'd get for attempted murder!"

"I don't care! Let me go! He's getting away!" I screamed.

Indeed, Archer had recovered enough to begin crawling away on his hands and knees. A quick signal to one of the Dragonites and the criminal boss was bear-hugged, no freer than me.

"That man will get his punishment in due course, but not from you. A child like you has no right to be passing judgment on others. You aren't God," Lance proclaimed.

"No, I'm a demon that he and his filth helped create," I spat back.

A look of righteous and supreme anger flitted across the adult's face.

"You're no demon, you fool. Just a brat with a sad past and a temper tantrum. Oh, don't you dare think you're entitled to the 'You don't understand me!' argument. I know everything. Your father, your mother, the abuse, the abandonment, your obnoxious need for revenge, your ill-treatment of your Pokémon to further your own selfish desires…"

Fuck! Who is this guy? Who the hell does he think he is?! How the hell does he know about my father!?!

"You are weak."

"No I'm not!" I protested.

"You are. Why are you the one laying on the dirt, with your defeated Pokémon surrounding you, and I'm the one standing victorious? For all your violence," he again motioned to the base I had helped reduce to rubble, "You are still nothing compared to even a middling Gym Leader. Why do you think that is?"

"Because I haven't trained enough," I retorted. "Just give me the same amount of time you've had, I'd shove that stare right up your-" and I was cut off by his hand slapping my cheek.

"I could give you a hundred lifetimes, you'd never get stronger," he said. Then he leaned in close, very close, so he could whisper in my ear. "You do not love your Pokémon and that makes you weak. You will never beat me, or your father, if you cannot learn to trust your own comrades."

Lance walked around and placed a hand on Feraligatr's hind. The trainer stared down with a look of pity upon the big, blue brute as he breathed heavily.

"This Pokémon was raised improperly. It has a dangerous mindset and has become habituated to lethal violence. It cannot be allowed to live, or else it would endanger the lives of Pokémon and humans alike. I will be taking it with me in order to euthanize it," he declared.

My eyes widened.

"You can't," I uttered.

"I can, and you can't stop me. That's the nature of things, isn't it?"

He retrieved Feraligatr's pokeball from the ground beside me and recalled the injured Pokémon.

"Dragonite, release him, we're leaving."

"You bastard!" As soon as I was free I scrambled forward, ready to throw what pathetic little strength I had at the man. The Dragonite reacted, catching me by the shirt and holding me back. When I threatened to rip loose, it simply caught me by the shoulders and held me down.

"Give it back! You can't do that! You can't kill my Pokémon!" I cried.

Lance halted.

"Why not?" he asked without turning.

"Because it's my Pokémon! That's theft! Give him back, he's mine!"

"Terrible answer," he said and renewed his departure. One Dragonite lifted Archer onto its back and followed. The second recalled into its pokeball, and the third placed itself between me and its trainer, to ensure I wouldn't attack him again.

"Stop! Come back!"

He didn't. I stutter-stepped forward, not enough to provoke the body-guard but enough to keep up.

"Please! Don't kill Feraligatr! It's murder! Murder! Doesn't that mean anything to you? What kind of moral fag are you if you murder my Pokémon, huh?"

"I don't relish this task, nor do I do it for revenge, anger, hatred, or spite. My motive is purely to safeguard future innocents, including yourself."

"Feraligatr wouldn't hurt me! Give him back!"

"No."

"It's wrong!"

"It's what has to be done," Lance called back, now climbing the broken stairs leading to the surface. I was left at the base, staring upwards.

"Please!"

I didn't remember when I had started crying, but now the tears were welling around my eyelids.

"You can't… you can't punish Feraligatr for being a brute! I made him that way! I taught him to be a thug! To make him stronger! It's my choice, my fault! Punish me, but don't go fucking murdering my Pokémon for such a stupid reason!"

Lance stopped.

He finally turned to face me, looking down upon me. The image of God before Hella came to my mind, eyes like lightning bringing judgment down upon the hapless sinner.

"I am on my way to Indigo to be sworn in as the Pokémon League CEO. Do you know why I am taking this job?"

I couldn't answer that, or even respond with a "why?". My mouth just gaped a little.

"Because a fool like you who believed in power beyond all consequence allowed his Pokémon to rampage during a match, killing 15 Pokémon and 124 people. This fool, this Grey Forester, was not unique. There are many others like him, infesting the league from top to bottom. The former CEO enabled them. I am being called in to raze this entire corrupt system to the ground.

Pokémon are not born evil. They take it from us, their trainers. Those who can't accept the responsibility of caring for their Pokémon should just let them loose. The world does not need such weak-willed war-mongers lording over other creatures."

He tossed Feraligatr's pokeball down. It landed with a dull clang amidst a nearby pile of concrete blocks. Without pause or thought I rushed over and collected the device. Relief washed over me.

"Here is your punishment," Lance announced. "Prove me wrong. Prove that you aren't an idiot, that you can treat your Pokémon with respect, and humans with mercy. Do that, or Arceus help me, I will bring the full force of the justice system down upon you, and you will NEVER see your Pokémon again!"

 

* * *

 

I was scared, then. Might made right, I was taught this since I was first capable of understanding words. Those with power make the rules, and the rules had to be adhered to. I had spent my whole adolescence rebelling against that notion. Without thinking it through, without understanding it, totally ignorant, I had fallen right into its trap. I had pursued power for myself in order to break the grip _that_ bastard held over me.

Lance beat me handily, without effort. His power awed me. But more than his victory, were his words. I did not want to listen to him, but out of appreciation for the difference in power between us, I did listen, or, at least, tried. I was young, I still did not fully comprehend his words.

What I knew for sure was that he made me feel weak. By some miracle, I stood there, in the rubble of the base, with the rain setting in, and actually took the time to contemplate what Lance had told me.

" _You do not love your Pokémon and that makes you weak._ "

This was my first inkling that power was not something gained by violence, but something else, something unfathomable, something I had yet to experience, given or received, from any human or Pokémon: "love".


	4. Weakness

Crobat plunged from the sky, enacting one final, desperate assault upon the Politoed. Brave Bird hit right on target, crashing into the body of the opponent with enough force to send them both bowling end over end. However, when the dust settled into the mud-blighted battlefield, only the green toad rose from the mound of muck. My Pokémon could not be recognized, splayed out and fainted within the mush.

It's over.

After everything I've been through, it wasn't enough. My best could never compare to her. It's not fair. She doesn't care about winning, she has no intention to put her power to use, her only aim and goal in this battle is to have fun. Her training regime could, at best, be described as "lackadaisical", and her tactical genius was a myth created by exaggeration.

Yet she is my superior, and this battle is the undeniable proof. My six Pokémon are knocked out, and all but one of her six are healthy and ready to fight a battle that is now over. By some miracle, I managed to knock out her Smeargle, the weakest amongst her team members. The rest were clearly capable of defeating any one of mine in single combat. Typhlosion would easily handle all but Feraligatr, even if they were to charge that flame-bringer all at the same time.

I fell to my knees.

"What is the difference between you and me?" I asked in a shocked utterance. Lyra, in her usual quaint fashion, shrugged and skipped over to my side of the field.

"What's wrong? You're usually not so quiet after getting beaten. Where's your boasting and threats? Bring them on! I've got some nice comebacks this time, thanks to Ethan! Hey… Silver? Are you ill or something? Come on…"

Her diatribe meant nothing to me. Words are meaningless. We are the sum of our actions, we…

I started. The touch of skin and hair fell over my cheeks, down my shoulder and arms, wrapping me up in a tight embrace.

"You look like you need a hug," Lyra said softly. Her body lay draped over me, like a child's blanket, offering warmth and protection.

What is she doing?

I'm frozen. I can't fathom or reason out her action, can't comprehend what she has to gain by tackling and holding me like this. This is a hug.. right? Isn't this some kind of crass gesture one lust-addled idiot gives to another? That can't be right. There's no way this woman would fall for me. She and I are rivals, enemies. I have shown nothing but scorn and hatred towards her, and she nothing but pity and naïve sportsmanship towards me. I'm not so socially daft as to miss the signs of affection, and what little romantic gestures I've seen from her are all directed at that other idiot, Ethan. So why is she hugging me?

Yet with the moments passing by and my mental faculties lost to the illogic of the situation, my baser instincts came loose, and I sighed.

' _It's not a question of why she's embracing you, dimwit,_ ' I realized, ' _it's why are you allowing it?_ '

I grasped her wrist. I had the notion to throw her off, yell at her, defend myself from her pitying advance, and declare her a weakling given over to sentimental emotion. That notion evaporated as my fingertips closed over her thin arm. Instinct held sway over my actions and they refused the command of my shocked ego. Instead of repulsing the girl, I tugged her tighter.

This feels weird. It feels awful, in the sense that I'm allowing such a silly, sentimental gesture to invade my being and cheer me up. It feels wonderful, like sacrilegious bliss, like a lethal dose of sugar... It feels…

…like Hell.

It's the hell of bringing heaven down to earth and forcing it upon the damned child. Making them aware of the negativity that encompasses their being, and bringing them to shame and guilt for their behavior thus far. It's showing me that I had always known what was wrong and evil and amoral, but without anything else to judge against, I had assumed all the world was- not black and white, nor shades of grey- but black and blacker, completely saturated with selfishness, sin, and cruelty. Engulfed in that darkness, and seeing nothing but an endless cycle of cruelty stretching far into the future, I had cast aside my hopes and assumed the role of an annihilator. Set against a universe of absolute, all-encompassing sin, the only recourse, the only way to improve the situation was to destroy it- destroy everything. Reduce it all to nothingness. Life becomes a binary of evil and non-evil; get rid of the evil and only serene void remains.

A world without humanity was what I desired, because humanity was the only species self-conscious of their selfishness; yet given the choice, they still pursued their own interest to the exclusion and pain of others. My ill feelings were universal, but my goals became entangled in a singular, specific purpose- to visit this philosophical conclusion upon the one who most exemplified the corrupted human spirit-

My father.

I had convinced myself that the world knew and was ashamed of itself, and that this cancerous outgrowth named Giovanni knew it could not and should not continue to exist, and so forged itself its own suicide weapon- a son. Made to shoulder all of his twisted expectations and lingering hatreds, abandoned to the winds of fate, I knew from that cold November day onward my purpose in life was to annihilate him and all that he represented.

Life itself was hell.

Yet with a simple, stupid hug, I was shown kindness, and that was enough to completely obliterate my world view.

 "I'm weak," I moaned.

"No you aren't. You're one of the strongest trainers I know," she countered.

"No, _I_ am weak," I repeated.

She held me still, not arguing or making vain attempts to assuage me with words. She simply allowed me to unearth the feelings I had been bottling for four long years.

"Lance is ridiculous. Absurdly strong," I said. "My Pokémon wouldn't stand a chance against his. Why? He told me that strength comes from the bond between a trainer and their Pokémon. How does that even work? I don't get it. But he's strong, so he must know it's true. What does that mean for me? Are my Pokémon weak because I don't love them enough? I don't get it. I don't know how to love a Pokémon. You can't fuck them, or marry them. That's absurd."

I gripped Lyra's arms tighter, like a vice, probably hard enough to hurt her, but she didn’t complain.

"Then… that means… it's true for people, too, right? You can't be strong unless you're loved. I never got that. Who the hell was supposed to love me? How was I supposed to know what to do, how to be strong, if damn-all no one was there to support me? Doesn't that universal precept kind of shit on everyone who had shit-for-parents like I me?!"

"Not everyone's lucky enough to be loved from birth," Lyra said. "But if you want love, you can always show it to others, and eventually, somebody will return it. I love you, you know," she said calmly.

I leaned my head back and tilted, to stare into her amber eyes. I was amazed.

"You… love me?" I uttered incredulously.

"Why so shocked?" she said. "Not every love has to be romantic. I love you because you're my rival. You and I have a special bond. My life wouldn't be the same without you in it.  I wouldn't be who I am today if I hadn't met you. So I'm glad our lives crossed each other's. I think we've been better off for meeting, and fighting, and growing up together. Even if it's not been cheerful and peaceful all the way through, I never hated the memories I've created with you. So, I guess I love it. And I love you."

"You're… insane," I said.

"Sanity is for grumpy people, so ha!" she responded with a goofy grin. "Ethan taught me that one!"

I picked myself off the grassy field. The sky was beginning to cloud over. It would be dark soon.

"I'm on my way to Indigo Plateau," Lyra said. "Do you want to join me? Victory Road is supposed to be pretty dangerous, I wouldn't mind you tagging along, it'd be safer- and fun!"

"No." I shook my head, and then focused my attention on the mountains looming in the distance. To the north, the distinct indigo-hued peaks that gave Pokémon League its namesake rose majestically. They ascended in ever-increasing folds, trailing off to the north and west. Far away on the western horizon, a single monolith clawed its way into the upper atmosphere- Mt. Silver. But my gaze, and thoughts, turned eastward, where the mountains descended into rolling hills blanketed in forests. Somewhere amongst the oaks and maples and firs, hiding amidst the foliage and curled up upon itself, lay a small and unassuming city.

"I'm going to Kanto."

"Huh? Why Kanto?"

"It's the place where I started, where I'm from," I said.

"You have a home? I thought you just wandered around."

"Everyone comes from somewhere, dork."

I gathered my belongings, hefted my backpack, and began setting out. Lyra lilted after me for a bit, before biting her lip and letting me alone. I can't imagine what's going through her mind, what she thinks of me. In the past, I wouldn't even care. Now? It's not that I don't care, it's that I don't want to confront it. I'm afraid that I've become what I set out to destroy- a monster, a human monster. If I were to stop and contemplate how Lyra and Ethan must view me the same way I view my father- with prejudice, hatred, fear, and ire- the shame would drag me down to the earth, into the grave, never to rise again. I need to cast away everything, and focus on my one goal.

So many years I've been traveling. All to find something: Pokémon. Power. Answers. Information. None of it seemed like enough, and at every turn, every setback, I caught myself feeling hollow and unprepared. I knew, in the back of my mind, one method that would absolutely guarantee a meeting with the mob boss. Yet, I had delayed and procrastinated, convinced I wasn't ready.

The sun set, the forest highway was somber and quiet, save for the occasional cargo truck rumbling along. My Pokémon were in their balls, slowly recuperating from the battle. I was alone- like always. 

Now I know what I was waiting for, all this time. I wasn't searching for the strength to defeat my father. I was searching for the questions I needed to confront him with when I met him again, and the courage to ask them.

Late in the night, my feet sore from hiking and my ego sore from begging for rides from random drivers, I was at last greeted with the sight of urban lighting.

Viridian City.

"Mom, Dad," I said to myself. "I'm home."


	5. Betrayal

"Ah, so the prodigal son returns."

 _Of course_ he would already be here; I needn't bother causing a ruckus and waiting for him to check on his precious hoard. The authorities had done a good job of locking up the old Rocket headquarters beneath the gym, but they didn't know about the secret vault hidden underneath the Pokemart. Here lay all the cumulative wealth acquired by the crime syndicate in its twenty years of operation: jewels, electronics, weapons, Pokéballs and Pokémon, priceless artifacts and artwork, paper documents and hard drives detailing every sinister endeavor, and most preposterously, a cubic block of cash six feet on a side.

My father, Giovanni, was sitting at a miniscule desk, hunched over a computer screen, notes strewn wildly around, and a forest of empty whiskey bottles clustered to one side. He had yet to turn and face me, not even acknowledging my presence with a glance.

"Well! I don't imagine you're here to beg for money, but take some if you want. There's enough to spare." With a careless laugh he picked a stack of bills from the mound and tossed it at my feet. That was 500,000 Pokedollars, min, lying on the floor. My lip quivered.

"You've got enough money in this room to buy Saffron City- and can't spend a dime of it, can you?" I told him with a sneer.

"Such is the life of a criminal mastermind on the run from the law," he countered, finally rising from his seat, turning, and facing me head-on. His glare was the same as I remembered it: contemptuous and conceited. In his hand he palmed an Ultra Ball. "Of course I know why you're here. Let's get this formality over with. Rhydon!"

"Feraligatr!" I shouted, gaining the attention of my Pokémon, just before releasing him into the cramped basement.

They fought. It was violent. Brutal. Not a battle between trainers, but enemies. The Pokémon understood that fainting the opponent wasn't enough, they were expected maim, injure, and kill. I shouted my commands, Giovanni barely uttered a word. It became one-sided, Feraligatr's Aqua-Tail was devastating to the Ground-Rock type.

Rhydon back stepped, taking another blow from the water-bourn blunt mace that was Feraligatr's appendage. It roared in vain defiance, before being bull rushed by my Pokémon and thrown to the wall. When it dared to stand and rise again, I ordered Feraligatr to use Hydro Pump, continually, relentlessly, until the opponent's will to fight was broken- or until the pokemon was dead, whichever came first.

Rhydon slumped against the corner, unmoving. I couldn't tell if it had blacked out or stopped breathing, but regardless, it had ceased to be a threat.

"Who's next?" I yelled. My father shrugged, lazily tossing three Pokémon out at once. Kangaskhan, Nidoqueen, and Persian.

Feraligatr rushed straight through the Kangaskhan, flipping her over his shoulder, and proceeded to tackle the Nidoqueen. The latter's Thunderbolt flew awry, blasting the ceiling light and swamping us all in deep darkness.

The animalistic grunting, the crack of bones, and the scraping of armor and claws across the concrete floor; these sounds denoted the war that was being waged on the floor between me and Giovanni. My eyes adjusted, and could make out the struggling silhouettes of monsters clashing. In the background, Giovanni's unsmiling, emotionless face stared out, eerily lit up by the computer's glow.

The cries became louder, and then fainter, and then ceased. Only a single creature remained, breathing heavily. I recognized the heaving as my own Feraligatr's. Had he won?

"Magnemite, Flash," I heard ordered from across the room. A point in space lit up, blindingly, forcing me to shield my eyes and slowing my reaction down by a critical second.

"Now that that's done with," Giovanni stated calmly. He reached over, hefted a tube-like device, and aimed it at my Pokémon. A small flash erupted from its end, and then a large, room-illuminating flash exploded across Feraligatr's chest.

My Pokémon disappeared.

"Wonderful, it worked. If only we had this years ago."

"What did you do?! Where's my Pokémon?!"

"Your Pokémon?" he said bemusedly. "Don't you mean my Pokémon? He's right here." Giovanni held up a type of pokeball I'd never seen before. "A wonderful specimen, I'll be sure to put him to use."

"What are you talking about? Give him back or I'll gut you!"

"Snag Balls are incredible. They can capture any Pokémon, regardless of whether or not they belong to a trainer. There might not be any limits on what they can capture, period. Yesterday my subordinates managed to digitize an eighteen-wheel cargo truck. Truly a miracle of technology! Although difficult to come by. We had to steal this prototype from some amateurs in Orre."

"You dirty rotten bastard!" I charged him, readying the other five pokeballs containing my team mates as I sprinted.

The adult sprang forward as well.

He's fast. Faster than I imagined. He socked me in the stomach and got me in a headlock, knocking my pokeballs away before they could be released. I struggled, but he was stronger than I thought a geezer pushing fifty could be. I couldn't do a thing.

"Settle down, brat," he commanded. I was flipped head-over and smashed into the ground. My head rang, as if a flash-bang grenade had gone off in front of my nose. Nothing made sense- my senses were knocked out- I was completely at his mercy.

It took an untold amount of time to regain my focus. The first thing I noticed was the thumb and forefinger of Giovanni making finger-snaps in front of my face, attempting to waken me. The second thing I noticed were the handcuffs pressing into my wrists, chaining me to a pipe in the wall.

"You've gotten soft; I thought I taught you better than that. A battle's not over just because you knocked out the enemy's Pokémon."

Giovanni smiled, and made his way back to his desk.

"What are you going to do with me? Kill me, feed my corpse to the Weedle out in the forest?"

I wouldn't be the first, or twentieth, to suffer that fate.

"What? Kill my own son, in cold blood? You've watched too many gangster movies. Sit and wait there until you've calmed down, I have work to finish."

Like the cowed, weak, whimpering child I was, I obeyed. Peace and silence pervaded the atmosphere, interrupted only by the tapping of fingers upon a keyboard. My father paid me no mind at all, and I, head bowed, gave him no reason to.

This wasn't how I imagined things would happen. This wasn't who I imagined I had become. After experiencing so much, learning everything there was to know about Pokémon, about myself, and about the world, I felt like I had come far enough to stand before my father and face him like a man. There was no more need to stand under his shadow, quaking in my boots, and reduced to nothing more than a child; no reason to fear him- or so I thought. Yet here I am, handcuffed, afraid to speak, and feeling like a little kid at the complete mercy of an adult.

Had I accomplished anything this past year, anything at all? Where was my courage?! My fortitude? What good was trusting my Pokémon to be my strength when some damn gadget snatches them up like a vacuum?! I can't do anything on my own!

My thoughts reeled from one hopeless intercourse to the next, with absolutely nothing surfacing to reassure me it wasn't all in vain, all hopeless, that I had a single redeeming feature. I didn't notice Giovanni standing over me until a cold, hard instrument was pressed against my temple.

My eyes veered upwards, opening wide, as I recognized the muzzle of a gun pointed directly at my brain.

"Do you want to die?" he asked simply.

I bit my lip and did not, could not, answer. I was shaking up and down, my blood pulsing violently through my arteries.

"Doesn't look like it. I said I wouldn't kill you, but I don't trust you to keep your mouth shut to the authorities."

Oh shit, SHIT, he's going to kill me.

Damn it!

I don't want to die!

His hand went to my forehead, flicking sweat off the brow. He looked bemusedly at the disgusting slick on his fingers and the expression of terror on my face.

"Weak. Pathetic. Afraid," he muttered. "Not even worth killing."

He put the gun back in its holster and brought out a different weapon, a taser. A flick of the switch, and it crackled ominously.

"This is to make sure you'll behave. Try to act out, and…" he brushed the thing lightly across my shoulder. The pain was instant and debilitating. I yelped, a high-pitched, undignified, piercing sound, not even a man's scream. He waited until I calmed down and recovered, which wasn't long; the pain faded fast, on account of the brief exposure to the electrical prods. Giovanni made a gesture to indicate any outburst and I would be feeling the prods rammed down my throat.

"What do you want from me?" I asked in a small voice.

"Did you really think you could kill me? Or was that some sort of wild fantasy in your mind, like a comic-book anti-hero? Well? Answer me!"

Should I answer him? Would speaking my mind earn me a shock on the neck? Or would he see my through any lie I could concoct?

"I'm not like you, I wouldn't kill," I said.

Lance had made me vow to never kill a human or Pokémon, and I intended to keep that promise.

I looked up into my father's eyes.

"I just wanted answers."

My face reeled, pain and more than pain- damage- reverberated through my jaw. It wasn't the taser. It was his massive hand crossing my cheek in one powerful motion.

"I hope you remember what happened the last time you meddled in grownup affairs."

I winced, as he took me by the wrist. He slowly rolled up the sleeve of my coat, exposing my forearm. White scars crisscrossed the bare skin.

Giovanni nodded, satisfied.

"I'm sorry I abandoned you," he said solemnly. I tensed up, aghast.

He's apologizing?!

"I should not have left you with that woman. You didn't get the proper upbringing needed to be my heir."

No! Nothing he has ever said or done has ever been out of empathy. He has no soul. How could, for even a single moment, I think he was going to show some kindness to me? Why had my heart jumped just for that?! What kind of idiot am I, to get my hopes up so easily!?

Giovanni turned to return to his work. I gritted my teeth, and spoke up, halting him.

"I may be just a child, but I'm not an idiot. I know it wasn't some pissy little thing you were fighting over that night, was it? You were fighting over _me_."

Giovanni looked back over his shoulder.

"We were fighting for control of Team Rocket's future."

My teeth ground together until they hurt.

"So I'm just a pawn in your plans?"

He had nothing to say to that, and I, in my anger, continued.

"I would have been happy doing anything you asked! I would be your loyal Rocketeer standing right beside you, running the team and looting and thieving and causing mayhem, and morality be damned, as long as I could just have a dad and a mom to care for me! But you left me! Like I was nothing! Why?!"

Giovanni slowly walked over, standing over me, and then grabbed me by the hair, yanking my head about until I was forced to face him. He leaned forward to bring his face right up to mine.

"You have such nice hair. Like your mother's. Did you know that? I loved that about her."

His smirk turned into a sneer.

"And I absolutely hated the way she conspired to take control of Team Rocket away from me. A bitchy, sneaky Ekans, is what your mother was. Even your very existence was a calculated act to gain leverage over me. Your mother gave me an ultimatum- I could have you, my son, or my team. I chose my comrades. There is nothing more to it. You've spent all this time seeking vengeance on me, and the one who's really to blame for your misery is the backstabber you got these scars trying to defend. Looking back on it, I find it amusing."

He released me and rose again.

"Still, it wasn't wasted effort. You've become an outstanding Pokémon trainer. I think I _will_ go with my original plan for you- whip you into obedience, teach you how to be a proper member of this organization, and maybe, one day, you can take the reigns from me. Object, and I'll just have you butchered."

My head hung low, I did not respond one way or another. It was impossible to. I didn't relish the idea of becoming his lackey, or participating in Team Rocket's sins. But… It's a rare, stupid human who would be willing to die for the sake of standing by their beliefs, and I'm not one of them.

"Proton!"

"Yes sir?" A thin, drawn-out voice came from out of eyesight.

"Throw this child into the barracks and lock him in." My father eyed me for a moment. "Give him some time to think about what he wants to do with his life," he said with a chuckle.

 

* * *

 

I felt deadened, hollow, a husk of myself. I accepted the truth of his explanation immediately, as much as I hated it, because it was the exact truth I feared.

Mother never loved me unconditionally. Her every kindness, every tender affection, was always caveated, always predicated on getting something from me, whether it was my trust, or sympathy, or support. It was not until I ran away and had time away from her that I realized this.

But to think that my own birth was nothing more than a pawn of her desire to seize control of Team Rocket… it struck me to the core.

My father, and mother, from the very beginning, had betrayed me.

I had never felt such despair as that night, lying on a cheap cot, handcuffed, in the dark, hungry, scared, and silently screaming into the sheets.

 


	6. Desperation

Judging by the meals served, I've been locked up in this cramped closet they call a barrack for ten days. As far as I could tell, there were four people inhabiting the bunker: Myself, Giovanni, a cool-headed woman named Matori, and … this guy.

"So, you're the boss's son."

"Not like I call that bastard my father, but yeah, I'm the kid," I responded.

"Heh, you're wrong. I didn't mean the old man's my boss. I meant your mother."

My head jerked up. The one called Proton advanced into the room, closing the door behind him. The guy's appearance creeped me out- he was just an ominous, creepy guy. His hair was dyed a garish teal color, he wore a stylized version of the Rocket uniform- flared collar, pompous cap, wide-brimmed gloves- and his eyes were always unnaturally wide-open.

"What do you mean, my mother?" I snapped.

"You didn't know? She's back, and she's fighting Giovanni for control of what remains of our pathetic little operation. I work for her."

"What are you doing here then, working for Giovanni like a little lapdog?"

Proton waved me off.

"Oh, please. Giovanni has no more control over me than you do. He knows I'm a double-agent."

I cocked a brow.

"I was the Rocket's logistics officer. I know where everyone and everything is hidden. I can't be replaced or killed, and both of them know it. They use me like a… like an ambassador. That's the word. I'm the go-between when they're forced into cooperating with each other. It's a pretty comfy existence."

He set a lunch pail down on the end of the cot.

"Eat up, little prince. You're a big piece in the upcoming battle. Wouldn't want you starving to death." The unsettling man withdrew a few steps, allowing me room to pick up the food.

The flimsy ham sandwich and banana were wolfed down in a minute. If it was drugged, well, I wasn't getting anything else to eat. As for the fear of becoming dependant on my captors for sustenance, that meant nothing to me. If I didn't eat, I wouldn't have to the strength to fight when it mattered. Pride and suspicion weren't going to get the better of me

I stared Proton down as I took bites out of the meal.

"How did you end up in Team Rocket?" I asked between bites. Proton leaned on the doorframe, returning my stare with a bemused gaze of his own. He pondered for a bit before answering.

"Debt. Borrowed money to get into underground Pokémon battles, but that didn't work out. You can guess the rest. It doesn't matter, really, I could have ducked out a long time ago. I'm here because I like it."

He saw that I was finished, took the pail and left a bucket in its place.

"What's this?"

"We're undermanned. Can't risk taking you to the toilet."

My stomach wretched.

"Ta-ta for now, little prince," Proton said as he made to shut the door.

"Wait! One more thing!"

"Hmm?" He left it open just a crack.

"Are my Pokémon safe?" I asked.

"I don't know. Probably just thrown into the stockpile with the rest of the pokeballs." Proton shrugged and closed the door. A click of the lock, and I was back to my lonesome.

 

 

I don't know how many days or weeks went by, and the only human contact I had was this shady enigma of a man. He never told me about what was going on outside the base, just little snippets of Team Rocket's operations. Mostly he just liked to teasingly mock me. My father saw me once, ostensibly to see if I hadn't killed myself yet and to take a blood sample.

After the medical procedure was over, I felt a little woozy and collapsed onto the cot. Wanting to just rest, I feigned sleep and hoped my jailors would leave me alone, which they did.

"How is he?"

"Depressed. Boring. You're going to lose him if you don't give him something to do soon."

"Has he tried to escape?"

"Not since the first day."

"She's looking for him, and so are the authorities. We will have to move him."

"When?"

"Tomorrow."

_Tomorrow?!_

I desperately tried to retain my composure and prayed they would continue thinking I was asleep.

"Where to?"

"Pallet, and then we'll get him onto the ship."

"I see. I'll make it happen."

"No, I'm attending to this personally. If Ariana makes her move, she'll draw attention here. We're clearing out the cache. That's your job."

"I see…"

"Make it happen."

"You trust me to do this?"

"No, not upfront. But I have Agent X at Liandra's house right now."

I heard a sharp intake of breath come from Proton's direction.

"And if all goes well, I will give you command of the main base in Celadon. Carrot and stick, as they say. Now carry out my orders, Proton."

"Sir."

 

* * *

 

"These are yours."

I stared dumbly at the set of pokeballs that were presented to me. Proton was not smiling, grinning, smirking, or otherwise showing any outward sign of smugness I had come to know him for. He was being completely serious.

"Take them."

Without gaining my consent, he simply dropped them to the ground at my feet. The ship pitched to the side, sending the objects rolling down the deck. The saner part of my brain recognized the danger and forced my body to lunge for them before they dropped into the dark recesses of the ship's hold.

"Thanks," I said to Proton over my shoulder.

"You wouldn't be thanking me if you knew how much danger we're in. Let's go."

"I don't get it."

"We're escaping, dumbass. Let's go!"

Without looking or caring if I followed him, he began rushing along the catwalks. I followed, clumsily as I could. The electricity had given out and the only light we had to see by were the dim red emergency blinkers. Guessing by Proton's suspicious behavior beforehand, and what appeared to be an escape attempt (and felt like a trap), the lighting failure is probably his fault.

"Down," he ordered, and we dropped three flights of stairs. He halted at the bottom, long enough for me to catch up. His hand motioned me to stay silent. Time enough passed to make sure we were alone, and then we continued.

"The top-deck is completely covered by cameras and grunts. The only way off without getting caught is the submersible deployment bay. We'll have to swim, and it won't be easy. It's forty feet to the surface. I hope you can handle the water pressure."

"Why can't we use the submersibles?"

"Giovanni has the keys."

I clutched my pokeballs. Feraligatr might be able to help with the swim.

"How big is this ship?" I asked, after we had traversed what felt like a football field and still saw no end to the labyrinth of passages, catwalks, and cargo holds. I had been blindfolded when the Rockets forced me aboard.

"Shut up and keep up," Proton replied.

We finally reached a gated doorway. Cracking open a side-panel, Proton fiddled with the circuitry inside by inserting an electronic gadget into it. A moment later the elevator sprang to life.

"My virus has total control of the ship right now. I can do anything I want, at least until a hard reboot," Proton bragged.

"How long will that take?"

"About sixty seconds once they realize it's a software problem and get someone down to the server room. How long it takes them to figure that out though… well, they're not the brightest bunch." He shrugged. "Get in."

The elevator was cramped, barely enough for three people to squeeze inside. Proton and I took opposite sides of the chamber, facing one another. The doors closed, enclosing us in completely. The machinery churned into action and began moving very slowly. I could barely feel any movement. Proton looked bored.

"Why are you doing this? On my mother's orders?"

"My own initiative. She'd probably want to lock you up the same as Giovanni and use you as a bargaining chip."

"Why am I so valuable?"

"Your father's vanity, mainly. And your skill in Pokémon battles hasn't exactly gone unnoticed. But mostly your dad. He's starting to realize money isn't a very compelling life goal in and of itself."

"He wants to leave something to be remembered by- but it still doesn't explain why I'm treated like some magic crystal. Is his ego that big that he absolutely has to have a blood heir? Is his legacy so important to him?"

"I don't know the man's thoughts, but it wouldn't surprise me. He's lost it since the League-takeover operation failed. Obsessed. Still has a mind like a steel trap, sure, but his goals are just insane."

"So that's why you're siding with my mother."

"Sort of. She's got even more delusional goals, but saner expectations towards her chances of attaining them."

I cocked an eyebrow.

"What exactly are my parents fighting over? What's the difference between them?"

"Giovanni wants world domination, or as close to it as his means allow. Wealth, power, prestige. That's about it. Ariana, though, she doesn't like the way the world is run. Like she has some personal beef with the people in charge, particularly the Pokémon League. She calls them fat, hypocritical Snorlaxes. I can't tell if she's a radical libertarian or extremist socialist. Either way, she vowed to use Team Rocket as a weapon to clean up the corruption of the world, starting from the top. Basically, for them, the team was a common means to different ends, and that's what started the power struggle."

I nodded along.

Lance had insinuated the same thing as my mother. The Pokémon League had been founded as a way to promote peaceful coexistence between Pokémon and humans. Somewhere along the way it had devolved into a commercial enterprise, only interested in making money out of the spectacle of pitting enslaved living creatures against one another in gladiatorial battles. After Lance's ultimatum, I had delved into the news archives and history books, and the more I read, the more I was appalled at the League's actions. It reminded me too much of my childhood under my father.

"And what about you? What motivates you?"

"No time, we're here." A buzzer sounded, the doors rang open, and we jumped out into a room.

"The hell?" Proton uttered.

"What is it?"

"This isn't the right room."

I figured as much a moment later, when it began filling up with gas. My eyes welled up with tears, and my lungs were raked raw.

We stumbled out of the opposite exit, out into broad daylight.

"Tear gas-" I choked out.

"Why? The elevator went up, not down- fuck! Giovanni!"

Proton raised a fist to the upper deck.

Giovanni stood at the rail, a heavy rain jacket draped over his shoulders and a hard stare on his face. Beside him and all around us stood dozens of Rocket grunts, ready for action. They were all armed, either with guns or Pokeballs. I was shocked by the number of forces even a ragged, half-dead criminal organization like Team Rocket could muster.

"You made a poor choice Proton. Hand over the boy and you'll be the only one we kill."

"Hey, kid, do you want to join them?" Proton asked me out loud, almost sounding snarky and sarcastic.

"No," I replied.

"See? He's a big kid, he can make his own choices. It's not my decision."

It doesn't seem like a good idea to piss them off, Proton.

Giovanni cocked his head, simultaneously amused and annoyed at Proton's defiance.

"Do you care nothing for Liandra's well being?"

"Heck no. She's just another bitch to me. I've had several."

Giovanni's lips went tight. He leaned over to his female assistant.

"Matori, contact Agent X. Have the target killed. Immediately."

Proton didn't respond. Matori departed. The atmosphere was chilling, and it wasn't merely the voracious wind coming off the bay that caused it. I gripped my pokeball tighter, waiting for any slip, any chance. The grunts were equally tense.

"You think I'm bluffing?" Giovanni called down.

"I think I don't give a damn about whether you're bluffing or not. Agent X works for Ariana. He's a double-agent," Proton called back up to his adversary.

"And who told you that?"

"Ariana."

"In person?" Giovanni led on. Proton fell silent. The boss pulled out a touchpad and tossed it down to us. It fell upright, and on its screen a voice chat program was running.

"Proton, you don't need to worry about Triton. We've successfully counter-bribed him. We've successfully - we've successfully - Proton - you don't - Proton - worry about - Triton - counter - bribed - we've successfully -" The voice of my mother reached across to me, at first coherent, and then in scattered pieces, disjointed and unnatural.

"A voice synthesizing program," I said, realizing what had happened. Proton's shoulder slunk into resignation.

They had used old recordings of my mother's speech and cobbled together words to create fake orders to Proton. My jail-breaker had been duped. This was a set up from the start.

"Play the next one."

Proton numbly reached down and tapped the button to flip to the next track. Again, my mother's voice came out crystal clear, but this time it wasn't disjointed.

"Proton, get help now! They've got me in-" Her voice abruptly gave way to muffled screaming, as if she had suddenly been gagged.

"You didn't need to deceive me, you needed to deceive her, didn't you?" Proton uttered.

"I forced her to expose herself by using my son as bait. Letting you think you stood a chance at interfering with my operations was all a part of the act; just a ploy to aide in getting her out of hiding. It worked. From there, it was a simple matter to kidnap her.

"You bastard!" I cried out. "She had better be safe! Don't you dare hurt her!"

I don't care if she had never been the genuine mother I needed or wanted, or if she even cared about me as a son and not merely a pawn. Compared to this _monster_ , she's a saint and I would choose her well-being every time.

Giovanni didn't even deign to give me an answer. His focus never left Proton, who was now shaking.

"I'm still shocked that you opted to try to make off with the boy and not the cargo. Still, I suppose I should have seen it coming. You were never motivated by greed so much as lust."

Proton's head jerked up.

"How does it feel," Giovanni said, jeering, "knowing I'll have the pleasure of Ariana and Liandra's cunts at my beck and call- and you'll have the Tentacool for company?"

"You…"

His eyes are clenched shut, probably about to cry. His chest is heaving. Proton was obviously losing it. He was unraveling, I couldn't rely on him anymore.

"Get a hold of yourself! We're gonna get killed!" I implored. "If you don't fight you'll never free those women!"

"The boy doesn't really understand, does he? What did you tell him about yourself? Why you joined Team Rocket? Debt? Drugs? Money? Ha! Tell him the truth!"

"I… I…" he stammered. I grabbed him by the shoulder. He began rambling on, but couldn't look me in the face. "I fucked your mother… I fucked a lot of girls. Some against their will. Giovanni… he got my arrest warrant erased." Proton said this in the most dejected, guilt-ridden voice. 

"I remember it so clearly," Giovanni said, reminiscing. "Olivine City, the docks, you with a sack over your shoulder, the police sirens in the background. That was your hometown, wasn't it? Painful way to depart, I would say. Everyone thought of you as a savage deviant, a pervert and a monster, and you were. Luckily we got a hold of you and tamed you… my wife, especially. Now that I know the extent of your affair with her, I know who I should have used as a hostage."

Proton fell to the deck on both knees.

"Pick yourself up! We need to get out of here!" I implored him.

"You go. I'm done for," Proton said.

He really is lost. I turned again to my father, gritting and bearing my teeth.

"Take them in. Make sure Proton can still talk when you're through, I need to interrogate him. And don't hurt my son more than you have to." Giovanni stood back, letting his underlings do the dirty work.

I was about to throw my pokeball.

There was no chance for me to win. Not against these numbers and the ruthless tactics they would employ. I prayed Giovanni's orders precluded their use of the machine guns, otherwise I knew I wouldn't be getting out of this alive.

But I had to fight.

If nothing else, I had to stick up for myself, even when the situation was hopeless.

Why?

Because I needed to prove to myself that I could accomplish something on my own. That I could be relied upon. That I had some control of my life, or at least, I could choose how it ended. I needed to prove I wasn't weak…

You're such an idiot.

Was that really what Lance was trying to teach you?

I looked down at the Pokeball in my fist.

There's my reason for fighting. If I don't fight, I'd be letting him down. I've put him through so much, making him take so much punishment on my behalf, pushing and pushing and pushing him…. For what? If I backed down and let my insane father get his hands on him, just to save my own skin, that would be cowardly. Weak. Unforgivable.

No. I'm not going to let anything happen to my Pokémon. Not while they can fight, and I can still think and strategize.

"Feraligatr!"

The blue brute charged right off the bat, and was met head on by a wave of enemies.

The battle was quick and one-sided.

Feraligatr was buried under the tackles of a dozen assorted Pokémon. A Raticate had Proton by the thigh and was dragging him across the deck, leaving a trail of blood. I was assaulted by a Houndoom and Muk and knocked off my feet. When I tried to rise, an Arbok pinned me down.

It was over that fast.

"It's over. Too soon. I wanted more…"

I closed my eyes.

My last hope at a peaceful, happy existence, snatched away so easily. At best, I would die. At worst, they would succeed in brainwashing me, and then I'd be the same as that evil man I had spent my life cursing and hating. At least I know I tried my best, and never gave up.

Houndoom's snarling, salivating jaws hovered inches above my face.

"Just kill me," I bitterly whispered.

"Fire Blast!"

"Hyper Beam!"

"Super Power!"

Damn it!

No!

Wait!

I don't want to die!

And my eyes opened wide, and my brain went numb, and my senses reeled, because each of the three called attacks flew in from an unseen angle, dispatching each of the three Pokémon menacing me. The Muk and Arbok went flying, blown clean off the ship by the energy blasts. Houndoom leapt off me and over the blue blur that was attempting a Super Power tackle. The Pokémon switched directions with an Aqua Jet and connected on the second try, devastating the Dark type.

I lifted myself up onto one elbow.

Giovanni was glaring down on me and the rest of the crowd, eyes lit with fury.

The grunts let fly with all their might. The crack of machine and roar of Pokémon filled the air. Their efforts were as futile against the unknown assailants as mine were against their collective might.

"Silver!" I heard shouted over the din.

I pivoted around until I saw her.

Lyra, followed closely by Ethan, jumped down from a red Gyarados. The behemoth, unburdened by its passengers, turned on a nearby Rocket Rhydon and sent it overboard with an Aqua Tail. The girl dodged the incoming fire and pounced on me.

"I'm so glad you're alive! Xatu! Set up a Reflect and Light Screen!" Her Pokémon emerged and obeyed, giving us some semblance of protection amidst the violence.

Ethan's Azumarill and Lyra's Typhlosion took up our flanks, belting out watery and fiery punishment to whoever got close. There weren't many challengers, most of the Rockets and their pet monsters were focused on the trio of Dragonites assaulting the general deck area. Bursts of machine gun fire lit up the air, but just as quickly were snuffed out by much louder Hyper Beams. Some of the grunts tripped over themselves and each other trying to flee, others stood their ground and were bowled over.

"Get the mechs!" I heard one Rocket shout. A roar of jets and grinding of gears signaled the arrival of mechanical battle suits. One fired guided missiles at the nearest dragon, hoping to blow it to smithereens. The Pokémon spotted the danger and easily swatted the missiles from the air with a blast of a Hurricane attack. The mech switched to lasers, which succeeded in burning a wing and sending the Pokémon to the deck. From there a pile of Pokémon and grunts went to gang tackle it.

"Got em!"

The victory cheer was short lived. A Charizard and Aerodactyl criss-crossed each other's paths as they came in for a dive-bombing run. Explosions rang out all around the pile, knocking the participants unconscious. The buried Dragonite struggled, and with one great heave threw off the attackers.

"Are these Lance's Pokémon?"

"Yeah! Sir Cross offered to help out when we discovered where you were being held! And that's not all!"

Lyra pointed out over the evening water.

My jaw just about dropped. A coast guard cruiser, several destroyers, and a small air force of assault helicopters were inbound.

Up above, Gyarados caught one of the mechs from behind, snapping it clean in half with its jaws. The pilot, in sheer terror, flung himself out of the cockpit just in time to avoid losing his legs. Another mech was ready to pounce on the exposed Gyarados but was electrified by a Thunder. The vehicle fell out of the sky, causing more damage when it landed on top of the ship's communication array.

"Where is Lance?"

"There!" Ethan pointed while also directing his Pokémon in defensive maneuvers.

Lance, unbelievably, was going hand-to-hand with an Ursaring. The Pokémon was by far stronger, but the human was using his agility to constantly gain leverage and judo-throw the opponent to the floor. Multiple other Pokémon tried to assail his backside, but each time a Salamence would come, mouth full of dragon-fire, to ward them off.

So this is Lance's full power. This is what it means to be strong. He and his six Pokémon could take on an entire army of criminals, with all of their Pokémon and weapons and robots, and win. The numbers and odds seemed overwhelmingly in favor of the Rockets, but moment by moment their numbers dwindled, their positions were pushed back, and their morale crumbled. He did this, all to rescue a single hostage- an angry brat who did not deserve to be saved.

He did it for me.

"Why?" I asked aloud.

"Huh?" My utterance had caught Lyra and Ethan's attention.

"Why do all this for me? I've done nothing to deserve it."

"Because it's the right thing to do," Ethan answered.

"And," Lyra added, "because we care about you. I told you already, you're someone who's been a part of our lives, for better or worse, and losing you is just not something that's going to make us feel better- just the opposite, it'll make us miserable."

I stared agape at her.

"I… I never… had the chance, to learn this kind of stuff."

They were the ones with intact families, loving parents. They had grown up with the benefit of having been loved, and taught the way humans can live in order to make themselves happy. I was denied that upbringing.

All thanks to one man.

"Giovanni."

The battle was all but over.

The cold-hearted man with the slick-backed hair and permanent smirk stood at the rear, content to let his minions wear our forces down as much as possible. Lance, Lyra, Ethan, and I converged on the upper deck, cutting off his escape routes. Throwing himself into the sea was not even an option; the naval forces had arrived. Marines and their Mantine mounts were already snatching half-drowned grunts from the water.

Lance stood forward.

"I'd advise against jumping. Don't do anything rash. The only way out of this is to come with us. You're finished. Accept it."

Giovanni let out an insane, baneful laugh.

"Give myself up?! You're as hard headed as ever, Dragon Master! Do you honestly think the great Giovanni would tarnish his dignity by surrendering?! Catch me if you dare!" He raised an ultra ball in his right hand.

He wants a battle. A fair and square battle between two Pokémon masters. There was no way the officials were going to allow him to escape, even if he won, and because of that I thought Lance would refuse the challenge.

But…

"Very well. Let's fight the old fashioned way," Lance said. He began stepping forward, but was stopped-

-by my hand.

"No. This is my fight. I'll battle him," I said.

Giovanni finally stared me eye to eye. Neither blinked, neither swayed. At last, he smirked and relaxed, accepting the challenge.

"Very well, _Richard_. Let's settle this."


	7. Determination

"Don't call me that name," I warned. "Kadabra, you're up first."

" _Dabara dabra!_ "

Kadabra had been one of my earliest Pokémon, and the one I had been most harsh on during that phase where I didn't understand what being a Pokémon trainer meant. The evidence of my own, now-regretted, cruelty lay in the scars on Kadabra's arms. I clutched my sleeve, thinking of how close I had come to becoming my father.

If Kadabra still resents me for what I put him through, he doesn't show it. The hellish treatment had made him hardened and single-minded, entirely dedicated to doing his job as efficiently and effectively as possible. He had wiped away all outward trace of emotion or personality. In a way, this Pokémon exemplified exactly the ideal Giovanni had envisioned for Pokémon- an unthinking weapon.

We'll show him exactly what he had hoped to achieve.

"Kadabra, Light Screen illusion!"

Before Giovanni even unleashed his own Pokémon, Kadabra went to work, setting up the field in our favor.

Giovanni silently let out his own Pokémon, Honchkrow. No surprise, it was a bad matchup for Kadabra, even beyond the type disadvantage. I gritted my teeth and willed Kadabra to work faster. I didn't want him within a fifty foot radius of that damn black bird.

Kadabra chanted incantations and made arcane signs in the air with his spoon. The Honchkrow wheeled around in the air lazily, sure of its own invulnerability to any attack Kadabra might make against it.

He doesn't want to get suckered into a trap. No, wait, suckered- Sucker Punch! The bird is waiting for Kadabra to attack first so it can lay in with a dirty knockout.

"Kadabra, where are we?"

" _Kadab!_ " my Pokémon answered, putting the final touches on his technique.

And out of thin air, thirty-seven Kadabras appeared like stars surrounding us. Honchkrow squawked in shock, twisting, turning, and trying in vain to find a space where it wasn't entirely surrounded by enemies.

"Return," I ordered.

Kadabra ignored me.

"Kadabra, return!"

Instead, the multitude of Kadabra clones readied Charge Beams at the tips of their spoons.

"Stay alert Honchkrow, only one will be real," Giovanni warned his Pokémon. He's sharp, and knows exactly what's going on- which is why I wanted Kadabra to retreat, not attack.

He wouldn't listen, and the Charge Beam fired from an oblique angle to my left. Honchkrow took the electrical beam on its right wing, rolled around, and used its left wing to pitch an Air Slash in return. One of the Kadabra clones shattered into pieces, and behind it, my real Kadabra fell to the floor. Simultaneously, all the other clones disappeared.

"Double-sided Light Screens in order to create a house of mirrors. Clever. And to create so many at once, speaks to how well trained your Pokémon is. But its pride in wanting to finish the fight revealed its location. Never let your Pokémon's pride exceed your own!" Giovanni declared. "Honchkrow, how is your wing?"

That crappy piece of poultry rose and puffed out its chest defiantly, even though one of its limbs hung limp at its side.

" _DAB!_ "

I gazed in awe as Kadabra rose back to a battling posture.

"Kadabra, you're in no shape to fight…" I uttered.

Truly, that was an understatement. The Air Slash has shattered all four of his limbs and left a bleeding gash across his chest. He wasn't even standing, so much as using sheer force of will to lift his cadaver of a body with telekinesis.

" _Kadabra!_ "

Yet, he still wanted to go on.

"You don't have to," I tried telling him. He shook his head.

This is what I get, for mistreating my Pokémon for too long and training them too harshly. I had taught them it was shameful to retreat, to back down, or to show weakness. I'd punished them with my boot, by withholding food, by chasing them through the rain and mud, by messing with their pokeball stasis, and any number of other imaginative cruelties, if they tried retreating from a battle. By putting him down, by teaching him he was worthless and useless, by holding him to standards far above his ken, I had instilled in Kadabra a suicidal stubbornness to try and prove his worth.

"It's okay. You've done great as-is. Don't get yourself killed trying to prove something to me!"

Kadabra glared back at me, giving me a hard eye, and I knew exactly what he was thinking.

' _I'm going to prove my power to **myself**.'_

He charged, floating at high speed, straight for Honchkrow.

Honchkrow feinted, and then twisted round into a Sucker Punch. It went right through Kadabra, blowing him into a thousand pieces… but no, it was another Light Screen illusion, one held in front of Kadabra like a shield.

Honchkrow squawked, in pain, as it seemingly bounced off the real Kadabra.

My mind raced… what happened?

Triple layered- Kadabra had set up a third layer, a Reflect, behind its illusory Light Screen. Honchkrow had smacked into it, and had now crippled both its wings.

"Kadabra, brilliant!" But I wasn't about to let my Pokémon go it alone, if it was so hell-bent on fighting. The Dark-type, limbs or no, was still much stronger and had the advantage over my own Pokémon. Think of a strat, quick!

"Up!" I commanded.

Kadabra reacted, lifting himself into the air, just as a Dark Pulse passed underneath him.

A horde of illusions promptly appeared.

Awesome. Honchkrow thought knocking Kadabra out once would dispel the array of Light Screen mirrors, but that's not the way they worked.

"Double Team! Recover!"

"Honchkrow, break those annoying mirrors down!" Giovanni ordered.

The crow had no use of its wings, so it leapt up into the air, shattering the nearest Kadabra into pieces with its claw. From there, the thirty-something Kadabra's began flickering in and out of sight. Every few seconds Kadabra would fly out of the line-of-sight to the mirrors, and all the clones would disappear and his true position would be given away. Each time, Honchkrow lunged for its prey, but was just a hair too slow to catch him.

"Crap."

Half the mirrors had been busted down now. Kadabra was fully recovered and could move freely, which was good, since Honchkrow was on its tail constantly.

"Honchkrow, Dark Pulse."

Kadabra Teleported out of danger, and reappeared by my side. He waited for me to give him instructions.

"Do you really want go through with this?"

There was no answer from my Pokémon: As if I was asking such a retarded question, it didn't even merit response.

"You can't beat it with Signal Beam or Charge Beam alone. The only way I can figure to do it, you're going to have to get hurt."

" _Kad kadab._ " An acknowledgment.

"Take this."

I handed an object to Kadabra, who promptly adorned it on his forehead.

A Focus Sash.

Embedded on the band was a charm that would manifest the willpower of the Pokémon wearing it, allowing them to survive, by the slimmest of margins, even the most devastating blow. But it would only work once.

Giovanni, of course, recognized it immediately and began ordering quick, agile attacks, hoping to break Kadabra's focus and the sash's effect.

"Air Cutter! Peck! Feint! Faint Attack!"

"You can't get hit by a single one!" I warned. Kadabra understood, and began teleporting.

Damn, the bird's good. Its eyes are darting around like crazy, as if it can sense the direction of Kadabra's teleport. Crap! Shit!

Kadabra was hit by an Air Cutter and tumbled out of the air.

The damn oversized Pidgey knows Kadabra can only Teleport in straight lines, in the direction he's looking, in exactly twenty-two yard segments. It's not an ability he's mastered, and the opponent has picked out its flaw and expertly exploited it.

Two seconds and Honchkrow was on top of him…

…and was forced to somersault clear over and beyond him, in order to dodge a Charge Beam. It came back around with a Dark Pulse readied. Kadabra blinked away, and then blinked away again to escape a second Dark Pulse.

"Aerial Ace, should get it," Giovanni said. He leaned over to rummage around a pile of supplies. His Pokémon bounded into the air.

"You've got to recover!"

Kadabra slid behind a Light Screen.

Four were still active, and so four Kadabra's sat cross-legged, concentrating on healing their internal organs.

"KRAW!" With one leap Honchkrow sliced up two of the mirrors at once. Bits of scintillating energy fell and bounced around the deck, but no living creature fell with them.

"50/50."

Kadabra finished his recovery.

"Honchkrow, left one."

"Charge!"

Honchkrow was readying a Dark Pulse, but was caught off guard when Kadabra sprang straight through the image of himself.

"Sucker it!" Giovanni changed his mind at the last instant, knowing the Dark Pulse would not work at such close range. Honchkrow fell back, as if already hit, drawing Kadabra into melee range. Then in mid-motion its wing, impossibly, slashed out, catching Kadabra right across the face. The sash broke, both figuratively and literally, split clean in half. The damage to Kadabra was near-fatal.

Just as I intended.

"Counter!"

Kadabra went flying to the deck. Honchkrow went flying to the deck in the opposite direction, and about twice as far.

"Kadabra wins, barely," Lance declared. Indeed, my Pokémon rose, stumbled, and drifted forward, ready for the next opponent. Honchkrow lay completely still.

"Excellent!" Giovanni shouted. "I wish I had gotten the chance to train you! What god-given talent you have! Such a pity it'll be wasted under his tutelage," he said, indicating Lance. "At least I can settle for _this_."

The man retreated his Honchkrow and made to throw another pokeball out. I watched closely, waiting to see who I would face next. It didn't bother me that Giovanni threw this ball with all the force of a professional baseball pitcher. Nor did the arc look strange at all. I thought perhaps Kadabra, weak as he would, stubborn as he is, wouldn't mind fainting, if it gave his teammates a chance to scout the opposition.

Then Kadabra was struck on the side of the head by Giovanni's ball, and disappeared in a violet flash. The Pokeball wriggled and went still.

"Persian, retrieve!"

A Persian popped out, darted out, grasped the Pokeball in its jaws, and returned to its master, before I or anyone else could comprehend what had just happened.

"The hell?"

"Hey! Did he just steal your Pokémon?"

"That's dirty!"

I lit up in wrath, the reality dawning on me.

Snag-Balls, or whatever he called them. That bastard intends to pilfer my teammates for his own nefarious use.

My arms shivered in rage.

Lance was no less incensed.

"That's it, I'm taking him down now. Marines! Apprehend that criminal!"

"I wouldn't be so hasty," Giovanni shouted. He held aloft what looked like a radio. "Do you have any inkling of what this is?" he asked.

"A radio transmitter… to a bomb."

"Good, you're perceptive."

"And I'm guessing the bomb is loaded on this ship." Lance looked only slightly worried.

"Ha! As if something of so little value would deter you!" Giovanni said.

"So there's another bomb," Lance guessed. "Where?"

"Tell me," Giovanni chuckled, "how many not-so-innocent people would you say are enjoying the Celadon Casino right now?"

THAT put the mortal fear into Lance's eyes.

"Six… seven… nine-thousand," Lance uttered listlessly.

I was not shocked- not by my father's tactics, nor by his cruelty and callous disregard for human life. Only my hatred for him hardened.

"It's alright. I'll finish this match."

Lance and the rest stared at me like I was crazy- like I was too driven by revenge to see clearly. I grabbed Lance by the wrist.

"Don't worry. I won't let you down."

I wouldn't let him down, and I didn't mean I was promising I wouldn't lose. I meant I would fight this battle the right way, for the right reasons, and would not let my hatred get the best of me.

"Trust me."

"Fine. Go ahead. I've got to make sure they evacuate the Game Corner." Lance held my arm in brotherly gesture for a moment, and then hurried off to the nearest group of marines. Giovanni smirked.

"I'll have the rest of your Pokémon for myself by the time this is over."

"You overestimate your gadgets." I pulled out my second Pokéball. "Try snagging this guy at full health."

Feraligatr came onto the deck.

"I'll weaken him first."

I expected Persian next, but the cat stood back behind its master. Instead, I got served up a Kangaskhan, stamping the ground and impatient to take out its wrath. There was no baby in its pouch.

"That one looks scary! Will you be okay?" Lyra asked.

"Feraligatr's beat this thing already, when it was three-on-one and in the dark. But Giovanni knows that, and he's not stupid enough to send in a Pokémon that doesn't have a chance. He's got something up his sleeve."

"Earthquake," Giovanni ordered.

Sure, that'll do damage, but not a lot, not when we're on a ship out in the middle of the ocean. Probably. What the heck do seismic waves do when travelling through a floating steel vessel, anyways? Guess I'm about to find out.

"Feraligatr, brace yourself!"

I should have followed my own command. Kangaskhan stomped one foot, threw its bulk into the air, and came down on its haunches.

_The entire ship pitched over._

I was sent flying face-first forward. Sky and ground interchanged positions over and over again at a dizzying pace. My eardrums couldn't make sense of which way gravity was supposed to be pulling me. I landed flat on my back.

"Feraligatr!" I craned my neck to check on my Pokémon. He was still tumbling, barely keeping his feet but unable to do more. Kangaskhan was already bearing down on it.

"Power-Up Punch! One and two and three and four!" Every count ticked off another haymaker by the marsupial; each successive impact hit harder and deeper. Feraligatr tried counterattacking, but the barrage of blows was unrelenting. He took a nasty one in the jaw.

"Feraligatr, drop back!"

My mind raced. I tried thinking of something that my Pokémon could do, and as I did so the foe leapt around Feraligatr's guard and grabbed a hold of him. The water gator was flipped end over and pounded into the deck.

How could this Kangaskhan be so powerful, so fast, and so skilled? It can't have gotten this good in the short period since I last fought it. Was it only feigning weakness back then?!

"Feral, Hydro Pump!"

Kangaskhan had been pressing too hard and couldn't dodge or block it. It got off one last Mega Punch in Feraligatr's belly before the gout of water exploded under its chin. It was driven back to its own side of the deck.

Damn! It's shaking off the Hydro Pump like it was a garden hose. Feraligatr's heaving and crouched on all fours. Still, he hasn't taken his eyes off Kangaskhan; he still wants to fight.

  "Earthquake," Giovanni ordered again.

Kangaskhan has no long range attacks, nor is it very fast in closing gaps. The only way it can close distance without getting blown back by Hydro Pump is upending Feraligatr's balance with Earthquakes.

"Feral, crouch and spring… wait for it… now!"

Kangaskhan surprised me again, leaping a dozen yards to the side while bringing its bulk down in a full-force stomp. Me and my Pokémon tried leaping, taking advantage of the deck's sudden see-sawing, but the angle was blown off.

I fell on my side and began rolling. Feraligatr was better conditioned now and dug into the deck with his claws. He managed to keep steady while everything else rocked and rolled violently. Kangaskhan, by virtue of its hopping motion, was not in the least impaired by the field's motion. With three leaps it was on top of Feraligatr and letting loose a barrage of Mega Punches and Power Up Punches. The gator Pokémon blocked them all effectively with his palms, but in doing so lost balance. He went bowling over backwards, recovered in time to scoot out of a Body Slam, and charged right in with his own Ice Fang. Kangaskhan wouldn't back down, and lunged forward with both arms raised. The latter caught the former by the shoulders and held steady. Deadlock ensued. The two strained, the might of their muscles working against each other became visible in the indents their feet were digging into the steel deck.

Feral's weak and immobile. This would be perfect for him.

I ran forward myself, flipped parkour-style over Feraligatr's back, right in time to block the incoming Snag Ball with my shoulder. I caught the device before it could hit the ground.

"Damn," Giovanni let out under his breath. "Kangaskhan, throw the brute into the boy. Finish them both."

The bastard thinks he can cheat, interfering in a Pokémon battle and ordering an attack on ME, the trainer?! Well if that's how he wants to play…

"Suck it."

I turned around and threw my fist into Kangaskhan's belly. It smirked, completely unfazed by the punch of a mere human. It turned its attention on Feraligatr, renewing its effort to gain leverage and hurl the behemoth. I hit it again, and this time a flash ensued.

"Sneasel!"

Two slashes directly to its belly, and Kangaskhan lost its grip. It reeled back, regrouped, and let out a Sucker Punch into Sneasel's gut. It followed through with an upper-cut, sending the dark critter skyward. Too bad, because Feraligatr was bullying forward with its own attack.

The sounds of the three Pokémon scuffling continued on behind me. I myself wouldn't let Giovanni out of my sight. The dignity of a Pokémon battle had broken down; it was a no-holds-barred brawl now. Judging by the pile of supplies at his feet, I was sure he would pull something dirty any moment.

"Good, you've grown up," he taunted. "Let's see how you handle these."

He kicked over a crate, with Smoke Balls tumbling out en masse, littering the deck. I was forced backwards to avoid the wave of balls, and then had to dodge again to get out of the way of a wrecking ball of tooth and claw. One of the Pokémon stepped on a Smoke Ball, igniting it. The rest of the balls blew up in chain reaction.

Blinded. I can't see a thing. The marines were shouting; they weren't going to stand back anymore.

"Rhydon! Nidoqueen! Nidoking! Buy me some time!"

Buy him time? Was this whole formal battle a ruse for him to set something up? What's he got planned?!

"Crobat! Haunter! Get airborne, find their positions!"

If a Pokémon battle consisted of six Pokémon facing against six Pokémon, one at a time, would you call several dozen Pokémon fighting at once a Pokémon War? Since that just about happened in the span of a minute.

"Persian, Feint. Kangaskhan, extricate yourself! Koffings, Self-Destruct!"

"Haunter, Hypnosis!"

My ghost pivoted like an automated turret, firing off one disabling glare after another. The stream of Koffing that poured out of the smoke cloud fell one by one, each one getting closer and closer before falling to the Hypnosis. Feraligatr kept hounding Kangaskhan, who kept fleeing a couple yards before turning around to engage again. It needed a few feet of space for its boxing-like style to be effective- Feraligatr had figured that out himself and was closing in for body-on-body wrestling matches.  Sneasel was fencing with a Scyther, the pair dancing around the other combatants like leaves in a hurricane.

The Nido monarchs were unchallenged and threatening me. I barely dodged the Flamethrower by rolling aside, and then scrambling on my butt to dodge a Sludge Bomb.

"Dorks! I'm outnumbered, help me!"

The idiots had been staring in awe and fear, evidently too stupid to realize the situation had elevated beyond a mere "honorable" Pokemon battle. Ethan shook himself to awareness first.

"Azumarill!"

The fat blue mouse was zapped by Nidoqueen's Thunderbolt almost instantly. Not enough to faint it, but by the looks of it, hunched over and panting, we shouldn't expect anything more from it for a few minutes.

"Donphan, cover for him!" The Ground type blocked the next Thunderbolt. Nidoqueen adjusted, charging up an Ice Beam and unleashing it.

" ** _Aroooargh!_** " The frozen laser beam melted before the intense flames of a Heat Wave.

So, the demi-god of inferno had joined us. About time.

"Typhlosion! Fire Blast the badguys!"

Nidoking ripped up the decking with sheer power, curling it upwards. The Fire Blast impacted it like a phalanx shield, spending most of its energy upwards into the sky… Which reminds me.

Where is Crobat?

There, by the bridge, engaging another Crobat in aerial combat, along with a half-dozen Zubats.

My attention was dragged down to the field again. Nidoqueen was charging up another elemental attack, and this one was aimed at me. I froze- there wasn't time to dodge.

Womp!

Feraligatr landed back first onto Nidoqueen's head. The Ice Beam was diverted straight into the ground and blasted apart there at their feet. Nidoqueen reeled in pain from the blowback of her own attack. A moment later, Kangaskhan Body Slammed on top of them both. Then, as if this was a cartoon comedy, dogpile-style, Rhydon, Aipom, Typhlosion, and Dragonite belly-flopped on top as well. The wriggling, heaving mass of Pokémon quivered for a moment, poised to topple but not being able…

…and then three Weezing wedged themselves into the pile and Exploded.

I was prescient enough, what with the spectacular lightshow and flying Pokémon sailing overhead, to notice a tired Scyther chasing an even more tuckered Sneasel right in front of me. I grabbed the bug by the neck and flung it over the railing.

"Sneasel, Ice Shard the bats."

He obliged. The Zubats fell out of the sky like downed fighter planes, twirling and whirling until they fell to the deck with light _thunks_. The enemy Crobat was too agile and dodged all the projectiles. It couldn't do so, however, without giving altitude to my Crobat. A short flitter of flight patterns, and my Pokémon won the 3D maneuvering war and came down with an Aerial Ace. The bad Crobat crash-landed with much more force than its unevolved counterparts.

Persian was sulking around the battlefield, taking pot shots where it could. Besides that, though, all of Giovanni's Pokémon were fainted or cornered. The Kangaskhan was incredibly tough and refused to go down. That didn't much matter, however, as it was hemmed in by Lance's three Dragonites.

Feraligatr rumbled over to my side. He was hurt, but not down. Affirming his ability to keep fighting, I silently kicked myself.

Not too long ago, I would have forced him to continue fighting, until he was cold and out and forced to a Pokémon Center. Now, I wouldn't demand that of him, but for my sake, he demands it of himself. Back then, he would be weak and unwilling to fight all-out, getting beaten by opponents he could have finished, because he did not want to take more punishment. Here, and now, after everything we've gone through, and I learning how to care for him- he would battle till his dying breath to protect me.

I don't deserve it, but I really appreciate that devotion right now.

"Pal, we're almost done," I told him. I turned my focus to my father.

"You should have fought fair and square, and then you might have had a chance. Now how do you want to end this?" I demanded.

He still has the radio detonator, which is probably the reason he's smiling, even when the battle was hopelessly arrayed against him.

"Richard, do you honestly think they would let me leave, even if I had won this Pokémon match?" he called back.

"Don't call me that name," I growled.

He waved a hand at Lance and the marines.

"Do you think they have that much integrity, to honor the outcome of what to them is just a sport, a game played by children?! Lance, how was I to leave this ship? Hmm?"

"In shackles- but at least, _alive_ ," Lance said with emphasis.

"Honor is lost on you. A hollow, empty word like Justice replaced it. Defending the "Good" and defeating "Evil", dictating the masses until they fit your perfect little mold of black and white, "Control" means everything to you and your narrow-minded ken. There is no difference in our desire for control over others and over our own destinies- but I don't lie to the masses and make them believe it's for their own good!"

"You can explain your justifications to a judge," Lance said. "Right now, all that matters is that we have overwhelming force, and you have a bomb. So I'll repeat your question, how is this going to end?"

"Giovanni," I said, "Lives are at stake. Either everyone dies, or everyone lives. How much do you really care about human life? Pokémon life? My life? Your own? Just give it up."

"You all are under the mistaken assumption that we hold equal bargaining chips," Giovanni replied. "To your question, Dragon Master, I answer this: How does this end? How about… I walk away free and clear… and you all die."

Everyone had been keeping an eye on his upheld hand, the one with the radio in it. No one had watched the other hand reach behind his back and draw out a Pokeball. A flash, and then a large, goliathan form appeared. A blast of wind ripped through the deck. Startled Mantines and Dragonites let off energy projectiles of various sorts, to no effect- they just impacted with no damage. I let my arm down to see what monster he had unleashed.

A Tyranitar.

Yeah, that's formidable. Enough to defeat the combined forces of four Pokémon Trainers and the military flotilla? That depends on how strong it is.

"Feraligatr, Superpower that thing. It's quad weak, it'll go down in one shot."

Feraligatr stomped forward, deliberate and unstoppable.

"We may have lost Project Origin's prime subject, but that doesn't mean nothing came of it. Perfect. A wonderful opportunity," Giovanni was mumbling to himself. He lifted a strange machine, something with too many folding, sliding, and glowing parts to describe fully. It flashed.

"Now, get him now, before-!" I began shouting my order to Feraligatr. Likewise, Lance's Dragonites, much faster, converged on the Tyranitar.

There was a crystalline explosion. The dragons disappeared for a moment in the brilliant sheen. Then their bulky forms went flying, like cannonballs, sailing out over the ocean before dropping into the water hundreds of yards away. I didn't see that, I was busy shielding myself from the outburst. Feraligatr was pushed back by the radioactive pulse until he was crouched directly in front of me. He glanced in my direction, and took up a protective posture, shielding me from the ongoing explosion.

The light and wind settled.

Before us stood, what might have been a Pokémon, but was no longer.

A monstrosity.


	8. Courage

A mountain of elongated spikes, carved visages of bone and flesh, gaping maws where maws did not belong. Something that faintly resembled a Tyranitar, if Van Goghe had painted one from his nightmares.

"Genetic engineering culled from Cinnabar Lab's research; breeding stock taken from the most savage Larvitar strains of the Sibernian Wastelands, breeding techniques handed down from the masters of Sevii Islands, bioengineering enhancement of Unovan scientific prowess, combat training from Helatian special forces, Mega-Evolution secrets drawn from the sages of Kalos- all culminating in THIS Pokémon!"

Giovanni patted the creature, which gave a frame of reference to its size- it stood four times taller than the human.

"I call it Ultra-Tyranitar," the madman announced with gleeful pride.

"I call it an abomination," Ethan said quietly.

"So full of hate, anger," Lyra followed.

They were right.

 It was strong, obviously. Impossibly strong. We don't stand a chance. But, it was full of emotions, negative emotions.

"It's like me," I whispered. I realized, as I looked deep into the hard, unflinching eyes of the monster, that I had seen this creature before, very often. It was the same face that greeted me every morning in the mirror, before Lyra and Lance had changed me. A soul of hatred, and a soul who hated how much hatred they were forced to harbor.

"He does that to everyone under him. That's how he controls them," I said.

The marines weren't going to wait, but should have known better than to attack. A barrage of machine gun and missile fire was met with minor flinches, and then a counter attack.

"Sand Ray."

I've never seen this attack before. It seems as if Ultra-Tyranitar has taken its Sand Stream ability and weaponized it, firing sand particles at extreme density and high velocity, like a sand-based Hydro Pump. It punched a hole straight through the nearest helicopter, and then batted the combat aircraft away like a wet newspaper. The Sand Ray swiveled round, knocking another three helicopters akimbo.

The rampage had only begun.

Lance spearheaded the assault with his Charizard.

"Sunny Day! Solar Beam!"

"Stone Edge." Spikes of smooth stone erupted from the Tyranitar's body. A single volley was enough to drop Charizard. Its body crumpled up, bleeding. Only a fast retrieval to its pokeball by Lance saved it from the second volley of spikes and its likely death. Thankfully, its sacrifice allowed Aerodactyl and Salamence to maneuver into melee range.

"Blind it!"

The Pokémons' flight capability and speed made them think they could dodge around the clumsy monstrosity's reach.

Two heavy "whomps" reverberated through the air, as the Tyranitar deftly swatted them out of the sky. The same motion carried over into Earth Power attacks that arced through the ship, blowing off marines and their Pokémon. Those that weren't knocked unconscious struggled to regain their Mantine mounts.

More attack choppers hovered in, firing off air-to-air missiles into the Tyranitar's backside. It shrugged off the weapons, showing not even a tiny bit of damage or pain. A blast of Sand Ray destroyed the lead assailant and convinced the rest to flee to a safe distance.

Giovanni was laughing at the top of his lungs, completely insane.

Damn it.

Missiles. Not Pokémon attacks, but modern military weapons. Useless. This thing might as well be impervious.

"What are your orders sir?" one distraught serviceman asked of Lance.

"Fall back. Get off the ship."

"What are… no way…"

"You three, ride the Gyarados off."

"What are you going to do?" I asked, afraid.

Lance nodded towards the navy cruiser.

"Hydreigon-class anti-ship cruise missiles. We'll sink the ship right out from underneath it."

"No way! What if Giovanni blows the detonator?" Lyra cried.

"We'll have to trust the evacuation. Never mind bombs, this thing is a living weapon of mass destruction. If we don't stop him here, in the middle of the ocean, we might see this thing next in the middle of a city, killing thousands!"

"Lance, calm down."

I can't believe I have to reprimand the mighty Dragon Master.

"I am calm. This is the only solution I can think of that will work. Hurry up and evac, we're out of time!" Indeed, the last of the marine forces were defeated or retreating. The Tyranitar caught notice of us dawdling in its territory. Stone spines like scythes grew from its shoulders, aimed at us.

"Lance, listen, there's another way."

"I'd love to hear it, but we're out of time."

He tried pushing me towards the lower deck, but I refused to budge.

"You said only strong trainers should be allowed to own and raise Pokémon. Courage, or love, or whatever, that deep thing I still don't understand, is what gives us the respect of our Pokémon, in order to command them. That makes a strong trainer-

Well, Giovanni definitely doesn't have that. He would never give an ounce of respect to his Pokémon. That's why he has to resort to ungodly genetic shit to grasp at power. But it's a fraud. He's weak. I'm strong. Lyra is strong. Ethan, I guess he's strong too. Trust us."

Lance gritted his teeth.

"No."

"You don't have a choice," Ethan said, already following in the footsteps of his companion. Lyra was rapidly advancing upon the monster, unflinching and unafraid. It might have something to do with the Typhlosion at her side. The Pokémon was unwilling to be out-couraged by his trainer.

"It's suicide! You're just children! Get back here!"

"With what we've been through, and you still call us children?" I genuinely chuckled at the notion. "Feraligatr, I've got a plan. We've gotta weaken that piece of shit, and then get close."

" _Frrrl._ " A low growl.

I started planning out the tactics on the fly as I and Feraligatr marched towards the final battle.

"Damn it!" Lance cried. "All units, standby. There's civilians on deck and they won't evac," he shouted into his radio.

"What then, sir?"

"They're about to get themselves killed. I'm going to try to stop them. Be ready to sink the vessel on my mark."

"Roger."

"Ambipom, hold him back."

Lance's attempt to curtail our brave last stand was thwarted by a seven-pawed monkey blocking his path. He struggled and got nowhere.

Stone Edges were blowing bowling-ball sized holes in the deck around me, but none got a chance to hit us. A searing hot gout of flame, too intense to even look at, was melting any projectile that threatened a direct hit. The stone spines vanished into the blaze, coming out the other side as inert piles of molten goop.

"Sand Ray. Overpower the fire-breather. It can't match your stamina," Giovanni ordered.

Probably true.

"Sneasel, Haunter, I need you."

I quickly intimated what I wanted of them.

"Lyra, Ethan, can you weaken that thing?" I shouted out.

"Why? Oh, I guess so! One sec!"

The Sand Ray swept through her former location, even as she flew away on her red Gyarados. A Hyper Beam intercepted the next Sand Ray, causing such a massive explosion that even the Ultra-evolution (stupid as that sounds) was dazed for a moment. A ball of dust and ash engulfed the upper reaches of the deck. Lyra and Gyarados hid in this to gain a temporary respite.

"Lyra!" Ethan scrambled across the field of battle, shouting and staring at the obscured portion of sky Lyra had disappeared into. Love is great and all, but the romantic kind sure can make people stupid. Luckily his Pokémon was watching out for him, and tackled him out of the way of Stone Edge.

"Armageddon!" I heard from overhead.

"What? No, not that!" Ethan shouted, realizing simultaneously his companion was okay and preparing some reckless course of action.

Tyranitar was showing the weakness of having one all-powerful Pokémon: it could easily squash any one of of us in the blink of an eye, but only one at a time- it didn't know who to start with.

"Riff-raff last, Ultra-Tyranitar. Concentrate on the airborne, she's more dangerous," Giovanni ordered.

Indeed, a single, silvery, massive comet emerged from the cloud. An Avalanche attack, maybe? It's huge, half the size of the gargantuan monster it was falling straight towards.

Ethan was rushing straight for me.

"What is it?"

"A fuel air bomb," he huffed, before pulling me towards a protrusion of the ship's architecture. We jumped behind the curve of metal.

"Got anything with a Thunderbolt attack?" he asked me.

"Yeah, Haunter. Why?"

"Tell him to use it on my mark."

I brought out Haunter, and Ethan brought out his ghost, a Froslass. I peeped over the edge to see what was going on.

The icy meteorite had impacted, and nothing else had really happened; it just hung there a few yards off the ground. The Tyranitar had stopped it with one hand, and looked like it was getting ready to pitch it back at its sender.

The dust cloud overhead ripped apart, revealing Lyra, Gyarados, Typhlosion, and no less than seven Fire Blasts screaming down from on high. They hit as one, blowing apart and evaporating the Wailmer-sized chunk of ice.

"Kaboom." Ethan chuckled. "Now, let's do it."

The Tyranitar was not knocked out by the explosion, but neither was it happy. Haunter and Froslass directed Thunderbolts at it. The thin electrical beams looked hopelessly impotent coming off our ghosts- our Pokémon didn't have the sheer special attack, nor the same-type amplification boost, to make Thunderbolts effective.

"Need another-" I began, than dropped beneath the deck. The world lit up, cracking my eardrums, dazzling me to blindness. I didn't see the ship or Pokémon or humans, but only bolts of lightning seared into my retina.

"Ack!"

"Lyra's Armageddon isn't an ice or fire attack, but a wide-field water attack. The air becomes super-saturated with moisture, so the tiniest electric attack is amplified by the total volume."

"I don't understand it, I hated science in school," I told Ethan.

"I don't either, more a history nerd. But it worked."

Worked so far as the Tyranitar seemed momentarily paralyzed. Rather than struggle to move its bulk, Giovanni was having it use Stone Edge spines fired in bursts. Gyarados was struck and crash-landed onto the ship's forecastle. We were next, receiving a Sand Ray to our shelter. Like a high-powered sand blaster, the metal was slowly eroded away. When I could see daylight through the holes being opened up, I shoved Ethan and we both dove away in opposite directions.

"Move! Move you bloated, damnable creature!"

The Tyranitar tried to put one foot in front of the other, couldn't, tried to roar in frustration, and couldn't manage that either. The paralysis was having an effect, but for how long?

Whatever. Seeing as its melee ability is on a crutch, it'll have to rely on ranged attacks. This isn't the opportunity I was hoping for, but I'll try seizing it anyways.

"Haunter! Need to improvise a little bit." I demonstrated what I wanted him to do.

"This'll be a first," I muttered to myself, and then held my breath.

"Break out of it! The power I gave you was more than enough to break this blasted paralysis. Break free or I will break you!" Giovanni screamed at his slave. The Pokémon responded in kind, roaring angrily.

Typhlosion zigzagged in behind the entity, dodging all kinds of Stone Edges by bare inches to do so.

"Focus Blast!"

"Sand Storm!"

The concentrated sphere of chi energy launched out of Typhlosion's mouth. It left a shockwave in its wake, clearly showing off its power and ability to do real damage- if it hit. The enemy's Sand Storm erupted about its feet like a cyclone, rising into the air while wrapping around its initiator. The Focus Blast glanced off the vortex of sand, just enough to change its trajectory and miss Tyranitar. The ball flew beyond, smashing into the bridge of the ship before exploding in a shower of metal and glass. A hole was drilled straight through the superstructure to the other side, one you could fly a Pidgeot clear through.

"Will-o-Wisp!" Ethan commanded to his Froslass. "Donphan, Bulldoze! Heracles, Close Combat!"

"Typhlosion, Fire Spin!"

If Tyranitar thought it could protect itself with a whirlwind of sand, Lyra figured she could counter with a whirlwind of flame. It might have worked, or might not have, but the Tyranitar began pounding the deck of the ship like a jackhammer. It's Sand Storm was no longer composed of just sand, but steel shavings. The heavier, denser particles easily withstood the Fire Spin.

"Move!" Giovanni screamed.

The paralysis was gone, evidently.

One paw swipe stopped Donphan's charge, a second claw sent Ethan's Heracross airborne. A sickening Crunch ended the Bug's role in this battle. With a whip of its head, it spat its meal out into the oncoming path of a Will-o-Wisp ball. Donphan spun in for a renewed attack, and scored a hit on the monster's flank.

"Yeah!"

Ethan cried out for joy, happy to have gotten one hit on. Tyranitar wasn't so concerned about the pain that it stopped it from snatching Donphan off the ground and hurling it at the trainer. Ethan was laid flat, and the rest of his Pokémon retreated in order to protect him.

"Typhlosion, Focus Blast! The ground this time!"

Tyranitar jumped.

Literally, nine, ten feet into the air. A behemoth the size of a house went airborne. Conversely, the ship was pushed into the water, suddenly dropping the floor beneath our feet. Like Kangaskhan earlier, the motion knocked all of us off our balance.

The Focus Blast hit the deck ineffectually, and then Tyranitar landed.

I once played "popcorn" on a trampoline with some Rocket grunts. This was kind of like that, if the grunts happened to weigh sixteen thousand pounds and the trampoline was the size of a soccer field.

"Sand Blast that damned Typhlosion already."

Sand Ray was like an Ice Beam, except made of sand. This new attack was more akin to a mineral-based Flamethrower. It billowed out and over my allies like a enraged desert storm. The paint from the deck was stripped clean off, wooden railings were splintered and wasted, anything not directly built into the ship's superstructure was blown off into the water.

Lyra cowered, wondering how she could be alive.

The reason, sadly, was that Typhlosion stood proudly before her. Tendrils of ash, smoke, and blood flowed down freely over its still form. A pile of melted glass enveloped its feet, leftovers of the last-ditch, emergency Flamethrower that had melted enough of the incoming onslaught to save both Pokémon and master… but only barely.

With Ethan and Lyra out for good, it was all up to me and my Pokémon.

"Damn--- Tyrani-" and Giovanni couldn't even warn his slave, as I wasn't going to waste a single moment in taking advantage of this opening so preciously created by Typhlosion's sacrifice.

" _Haunthaunt!_ "

" _Snease!_ "

These two darted in, right into melee range. Point-blank Ice Punch and Shadow Punch landed simultaneously, doing no great damage but serving to enrage the Tyranitar. My Pokémon split and weaved, dodging the arcing smash of Tyranitar's claw, while still managing to stay in melee range.

"Where's the bigger threat?" Giovanni wondered. His eyes darted across the battlefield, but could spot neither Feraligatr nor me. Good. "Damn, forget it, kill the nuisances! Sand Storm!"

Unable to smash the speedy pests into little bits, Tyranitar opted to push them away with another hurricane of sand. Haunter and Sneasel were pushed far back, all the way to the forecastle railing.

"Clear shot. Sand Blast them."

A wave washed over the entire width of the ship. Everything, even the deck itself, was stripped away, like a gust of a nuclear blast. My Pokémon flung themselves over the railing. A cloud of annihilation blew over their heads.

"They escaped down to the lower deck." Giovanni raised a modified Poketch to his monster's hide. He frowned. The readings weren't optimal. Tyranitar hadn't been hurt too much, but it was running low on stamina and power. It's wide-field sand attacks took too much energy to be used repeatedly. "Focus," he ordered sternly. "Watch the edges, they can come from any angle, even the ocean-side. My son is clever and doesn't raise weaklings. They'll try something unexpected… your feet! Earthquake!"

Haunter leapt out of the deck, just in time to avoid a certain KO from the Earthquake. He had been phased and hiding in the steel surface, hoping to sneak around to the enemy's backside. Instead, he was flushed out some thirty yards away and exposed like an open target on a firing range.

"Sand Blast it."

Tyranitar roared.

"Sand Blast it you piece of shit!"

Tyranitar roared, coughed, and could do no more. It had either emptied its reserves of sand, or else run out of power. Giovanni dialed a button on his wrist device, sending jolts of red lightning coursing through his Pokémon. The creature's roar boomed out, now laced with excruciating pain.

"Every single time one of these punk kids and their Pokémon seem down and out, they will themselves one last ounce of energy to seize victory! I expect the same of you!"

The idiot has no idea where that heroic willpower comes from. You can't order it out of a Pokémon.

Yet, by virtue of, not willpower, but grotesque technology, the Ultra-Tyranitar was forced to bellow and writhe, and another lethal storm of sand, mineral, and steel shavings billowed forth.

Could Haunter phase back under the deck in time? No, it would be pointless. The elemental assault was scalping three whole feet from the deck. It was going to hit in a second or less.

Haunter retreated backwards as fast as he could, in terror (ironic, for a ghost to feel such fear) and panic.

A wave overtook him- from behind. Water, the entire sea it seemed like, rose over the ship and consumed it. The sand and the water met with a tremendous smack, like the clap of thunder, cancelling each other out.

"Good, that was an excellent Surf, Dragonite."

Lance recalled his last remaining Dragonite to its ball- the poor brute had fainted in the process of uplifting so much ocean mass.

"Where did Silver go? Giovanni!" Lance demanded.

"I have no idea. Probably below deck, waiting to ambush." He gestured at the numerous holes and abrasions the battle had punctured into the vessel.

I smirked. He has no idea.

"And that doesn't bother you?" Lance asked.

Giovanni again pointed to the battle damage.

"Maybe you hadn't noticed, but the waterline has risen. We're sinking. If Richard wants to be a coward, he'll drown. If he wants to face his fate like a man, he'll turn up sooner than lat-" Giovanni suddenly ducked. Ambipom's Double-Hit sailed over his head. The man pivoted, swept his leg, knocking Ambipom's legs out from under it. Ambipom instantly regained its balance using its tail and responded with a kick of its own. Its foot caught Giovanni in the shoulder, but didn't land hard enough. He used his grounded position for leverage and kicked Ambipom straight in the gut.

A pained but gleeful Pokémon flew skyward. It brandished its prize- the radio transmitter it had managed to snatch right out of Giovanni's hand.

Then Ultra-Tyranitar brought down its fist and smacked the monkey into the deck. A one-hit blow. Giovanni recovered and retrieved the transmitter.

"Not like you, Dragon Master. Relying on another's Pokémon, springing a "dishonorable" ambush. Goes against your entire character. It shows how desperate and far-flung your hopes are, to be stooping to such measures."

"Anything to save lives, and stop you."

"Anything? Don't be ridiculous. Would you die? Would you sell your soul to the damned? What merits sacrifice, and what would it gain you? Who are you protecting?" Giovanni pointed at the naval cruiser. "How many sailors aboard that ship? Would you have them killed, if it meant stopping me?"

"They are prepared to die. That is their duty. As long as that is what is required to put an end to this, so be it. But you're overestimating yourself." Lance spoke into his own transmitter, loudly, for Giovanni to hear. "N.D.F. Virtue, do you read me?"

"This is Virtue, we read you sir."

"If my signal ends, I want you to fire the cruise missiles immediately. Do you understand?"

"Acknowledged. Standby."

"That's you're endgame?" Giovanni muttered. He furrowed his eyebrows. For once, he seemed more than slightly annoyed by a threat.

"Pokemon are not tools. Weaklings who can't understand that simple fact do not belong on the same world as these creatures, let alone commanding them."

"Spare me your lecture."

"This isn't a lecture. This is me, declaring my beliefs, and why I'm willing to die here."

The sea mist lapped the air, a delicately chaotic dance enveloping all, but it did not seem to be able to touch this monument of a man. His very severity, the willingness to die for what he believed in, it's as if it gave him the power to defy the elements, and the fates, and all else, and would not give up, until his purpose had been achieved.

I respect you.

Not as trainer who is far better than me in Pokémon battles.

But as a man.

I want to live by my own ideals, with pride, like you.

Still, I'd rather kick Giovanni's ass rather than be a martyr. Let's call that my first ideal.

" _Haunthaunthaunt!_ "

Haunter agrees.

"Very brave, and very stupid," Giovanni said in address to Lance's defiance. "But if you were depending on the navy to stop me, you lost your chance."

A beeper sounded out, like the alarm of a timer. Giovanni held out his Poketch. "PC mobile remote access, via wireless teleportation. Useful tech, but the transfer times are damnable. Thankfully for me, your yapping gave me time enough." An item materialized in his upturned hand, a capsule of some sort. He activated it and broke it over the hide of his monstrous Pokémon. A mist swirled out, and impregnated itself into Tyranitar's skin.

Lance grit his teeth.

"Hyper Potion. Would have preferred Full Restores, but, alas, downsizing."

Giovanni broke into his trademark smirk. Tyranitar lifted itself up from its sulking posture, renewed and ready for battle again.

"Fire the missile! Fire it now!" Lance screamed.

"Hyper Beam. With prejudice," Giovanni ordered.

A small flash emanated from the N.D.F. Virtue, shortly followed by a plume of smoke. The plume was growing larger by the second. Tyranitar turned to face it, and let loose a blinding sun-colored laser. A small puff of smoke broke out from where the beam and the missile contrails met… then a brilliant ball of fire erupted into the sky where the beam bisected the naval vessel.

Lance stood aghast.

"I fear no Pokémon nor human weapon. I am unfettered. I am invincible. I will rule this world," Giovanni calmly, deliberately declared.

" _Haunter!_ " My Haunter bolted.

"Tyra- Stone Edge!"

Tyranitar smashed the deck, simultaneously uplifting spikes of steel from the surface, and sending out rock spines of its own. The danger was coming from below and ahead. Haunter dodged, spun, and weaved its way through the field and hailstorm of death. The closer it got, the thicker the obstacles, until they overwhelmed the ghost's ability to dodge. It tried phasing past them, but was skewered. Ghosts can pass through solid, immobile walls and floors, but moving objects made of energized rock and steel… not so easy, apparently.

Despite the hit, Haunter wasn't out. Its detached claw flew out, a much smaller target for the rain of stone. Even still, at ten yards' distance, the spikes became a solid, impenetrable whirling mass.

" _GAAAARRR!_ "

A guttural roar, a rock smash, and Feraligatr bursts through the wall. It let out a jet stream of water, propelling it forward like a an airborne torpedo: Aqua Jet. Tyranitar almost looked stupefied as something one-fourth its size barreled into its chest, and continued barreling forward, knocking the behemoth clean off its feet. The sinking ship rolled to one side under the impact of the fall, and did not right itself.

"Where the hell did that come from?!" my father yelled.

Feraligatr wasn't done. Nor was Haunter. The former began pounding, with every conceivable physical attack, into the chest cavity of Tyranitar. The foe's armor-like hide withstood blow after blow after blow, neither breaking nor transferring damage to the inner organs. Feraligatr adapted, concentrating on the black hollows strewn about the armor. It became apparent that, in its attempts to struggle to its feet and counter, the Tyranitar was being impeded by its shoulder and back spikes. So much for being an "Ultra" evolution- its own physiology was working against it.

Meanwhile, Haunter was using the distraction to assail Giovanni directly. The human tried martial arts first, and then wild, rage-induced boxing, to hit the ghost. Whatever blows weren't dodged passed harmlessly through Haunter's ectoplasm. It was a wonder why Haunter bothered to dodge at all. Probably because the ghost Pokémon enjoyed ticking off its opponent.

Giovanni regained his cool, raised his arm directly to a laughing-his-ass-off Haunter, and fired. The taser crackled, and the Pokémon's flaunting gave way to vacant, sizzled eyes.

"Arrogant creature. Ultra-Tyranitar, what are you doing? Destroy it already!"

In a contest of brute strength, the genetically-modified aberration would win every time. In a contest of brutal, outright ferocity… there is no contest. Feraligatr was tearing into the foe with every ounce of anger, resentment, pride, tenaciousness, and wrath it had built up over the course of our journey. All that emotion, that terrible emotion that was once directed at me, was now being employed for me, against this freak.

Tyranitar reeled. It wretched. It fired off Stone Edges and Sand Blasts and Hyper beams, it Crunched and Knocked Off and Bit, but nothing it tried wasn't returned with three times the fury. The pair crashed into the forecastle. The ruined bridge collapsed on top of the combatants.

"Geh."

" _Sneh!_ "

Giovanni wasn't prepared for the third ambush. Sneasel slashed across his back, ripping his suit in two and slicing the captain's cloak clean off of him.

"Where'd you come from?!" Giovanni lunged, live taser in hand, but couldn't land a blow. Sneasel danced around him expertly, taking opportunistic slashes where it could.

" _BRRRRAAAAAAWWWWWW!!!!_ "

The remains of the bridge lifted into the air, not so much by being thrown, but because the aura of the energy pulsating from within caused it to defy the bounds of gravity. Debris rained down, causing both Sneasel and Giovanni to take shelter.

It was a valiant fight, but the Ultra Tyranitar had had enough. It was bigger, faster, more powerful, and utterly more hateful than its tired little foe. Feraligatr couldn't keep up its assault.

Nonetheless, he tried, with a head-on Super-Power.

A white aura unfurled out of Feraligatr. The air quivered and vibrated, muscles rippled, grew, and tensed. A wellspring of power, drawn out from the atomic bonds that encase Pokémon DNA, grew into being.

Feraligatr charged, colliding with the Tyranitar and shoving it against the forecastle's remains. Cracks appeared in the monstrosities' armor, extending past it and up the steel structure.

Tyranitar felt pain, real pain. This wasn't some podunk attack that would bruise its organs. It could cripple it. For life. Make it weak. Make it useless. Worthless. Its master would rage against it again, and punish it, and humiliate it. It couldn't stand to bear that torture again. It had to crush this enemy before it, even if it died trying.

The creature lashed out with one arm. Feraligatr blocked with both of his arms raised. It held, but only after being cratered three feet into the deck. Tyranitar raised its other arm and smashed home. Feraligatr blocked, and this time the deck beneath it gave away completely. A rapidly expanding hole opened to the cargo hold below. Feraligatr clung to the edge, raised itself up, and was promptly met by both of Tyranitar's fist.

Feraligatr raised its arms and stopped the gargantuan claws. It held them, and did not yield an inch. Tyranitar roared, spittle flying into the gator's face; it surged forward, putting all its weight into its tackle, trying with all its might to push Feraligatr into the chasm.

" _Sneasel!_ " Sneasel saw its opening, finally. It warded off Giovanni with one last flurry of slashes, and then broke off.

"Ultra-Tyranitar! Stone Edge! Kill it! Kill them!"

 Sneasel ducked to the deck, retrieving an item- a Pokeball. He used this item on Haunter, who was just coming to his senses. Giovanni bull-rushed forward with a hammer blow; Sneasel rolled out of the way. The enraged human attempted to chase, but was caught up by a cape flung in his way.

"Lance!"

"Giovanni!"

Without another word the two rushed into hand-to-hand combat.

Tyranitar saw the incoming flitter of black fur, and responded in kind: a flurry of sand and stone, thick as rain. One stalactite of menacing proportions plowed into the deck just in front of Sneasel, glancing him and blocking his path. Sneasel reacted by pitching Haunter's pokeball over the top-

-with Haunter emerging on the other side, only to be met by another wall of spikes erupting before it-

-through which Haunter chucked Sneasel's Pokeball.

This was my grand strategy. In a wide open field where the enemy could unleash all hell's worth of obstacles in our path, where no one Pokémon could be expected to succeed, I had my Pokémon advancing by chucking each other's Pokeballs, recalling in an instant, emerging the next, recalling and chucking in the same motion, leap-frogging each other, moving as fast they could pitch the balls, which was fast, and the balls were tiny and untargetable. They executed it to perfection.

No Stone Edge could touch them like this, no Earthquake, Sand Ray, Rock Blast, or anything else could slow them down. Tyranitar saw the futility of it and turned its anger upon the one right between its claws. It hunched up, and then threw its full weight into its hold. Feraligatr crumpled under the pressure. His foot broke through the ledge, and he began falling into the destroyed cargo hold.

In mid-air, a pokeball laser struck it, and the gator vanished, dematerialized into the virtual world.

" _Haunter!_ "

Haunter gloated, and would have repeated its mistake by taking a Sand Ray to the head, if not for Sneasel recalling Haunter into its pokeball. The Sand Ray pivoted and widened, going after Sneasel. Sneasel chucked Haunter's Pokeball aside, Haunter emerged, and recalled Sneasel.

Tyranitar let out a Dark Pulse, blowing massive indents into what little remained of the deck. Haunter flitted away, losing range but saving itself, barely. The Dark Pulse's trajectory corrected, cutting off Haunter's path and forcing it into a dead-end of junk. It tried phasing into the mangled debris; the pulse rippled straight through the steel and blew Haunter out the other side. The next Dark Pulse looked dead-on in aim-

Haunter repeated Sneasel's trick, the latter whisking away the former at the last microsecond.

Tyranitar no longer roared. It was beyond that now. Its maw filled with light. A Hyper Beam fired forth. There was no dodging this one. It lit up the world, brighter than the sun, filling up the universe with dread illumination.

Sneasel did the only thing it could do- it chucked Haunter's Pokeball directly at the oncoming onslaught.

Haunter emerged. Hyper Beam's energy was pure, too pure- it was a Normal-type attack, and passed straight through Haunter's ephemeral body.

Against all sanity, the Hyper Beam was immediately followed by a massive Dark Pulse, nearly as powerful as the former and much deadlier to the Ghost type. Haunter flickered forwards anyways, and when the wave of Dark energy pulsated so violently that he was stopped dead in the air, he wrung out one last ounce of strength and chucked another Pokeball forwards.

Feraligatr emerged. Bloodied as he was, worn as he was, torn and tired as he was, he wanted to land one last blow. The gap between them was crested by a single surge of Aqua Jet. The bolt of flesh and water arced across the air, impacted against the foe, and bore in with all its might.

It wasn't enough.

Tyranitar blocked it. Its arms and armor broken, nonetheless, it blocked Feraligatr's final charge. The behemoth lunged forward and caught Feraligatr between its jaws, clamping down with a sickening Crunch attack.

Feraligatr gurgled, heaved, and then upchucked.

And Tyranitar's pupils went wide, as it eyed the tiny little object sailing towards it, not two feet away.

A Snag Ball.

_THUNK!_

"HA!"

The Snag Ball bounced away, having been hit, the tiniest fraction of measurement away from touching Tyranitar's flesh, by another thrown pokeball.

Giovanni shouted in exultation. He had saved his masterwork from capture, barely. Lance lay on the ground, arm broken, face bloodied. All other Pokémon were conquered. Defeat had turned to victory. Those who opposed him had made their gambit, and failed. The day was-

The Snag Ball unclicked.

The energy particles of materialization burst out, releasing the contents of the ball into the air. A new form appeared.

And with all my strength, I twisted in mid-air, snatched the Snag Ball, spun, and slammed it directly into the forehead of the monstrous Tyranitar.

A burst of luminance and then…

The ball wiggled thrice, chimed, and lay still.


	9. Change

"What happened?"

I shook my head, trying to regain my senses.

I remember… bits and pieces. Giovanni shouting, cursing, and screaming hysterically. Ethan and Lyra struggling over broken wreckage to find me. A guy, in combat uniform, grappling with me. The ship tilting at a crazy angle. Noise, noise, lots of noise, and then the world went silent and bright, like a flash-bang grenade going off.

"You're awake."

Lyra sat at the bedside.

"Huh? Where am I?"

"Carmine."

"Where's that?"

"It's a tiny navy port. We're near Pallet. This is a hospital."

"Oh, great."

I hate hospitals.

"Care to explain?"

"Of course! But you need to get better first. Try some orange juice."

I was thirsty. With everything blurry and too bright, it was an awkward few seconds before my mouth found the straw and began slurping.

"It's not bad."

"Are you feeling okay?"

"Was I injured?"

"Yes, and no. No gashes or broken bones or anything like that."

"Huh."

I'm still in a daze. She's right, I should just go back to sleep.

"Hey Silver."

"Huh?"

"That was amazing, the way you risked your life like that. You're a good person."

"Don't say that-" I drifted back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

The next time I saw her was when I was cleared to leave the hospital. A marine officer came and filled me in on the details, but only after grilling me for hours about what I knew, what role I played, and how my version of events unfolded. It took several tries before he convinced me I wasn't under arrest; it was that kind of interrogation.

The black flash I had experienced was an explosion. Giovanni, in his madness, had detonated the bomb. He had been bluffing all along, of course. Team Rocket didn't have the resources or foresight to plant a bomb under Celadon's Game Corner. The explosive had been in the cargo hold of the ship the whole time, and when it went off, it blew half the ship up and sunk the rest in a matter of minutes.

"What happened to my father… I mean Giovanni?" I demanded.

"Unknown. We couldn't find him."

"So… dead."

"Possibly. When we combed through the wreckage, we noticed one of the submersibles was missing from its docking, and couldn't be found anywhere in the debris field. There's a chance he escaped in it."

"…dang."

I and everyone else would have drowned if not for the ridiculously brave heroics of marine rescuers. The man made a special point of describing the fire-and-water hellscape the jumpers had dove into in order to grab us and swim us to a safe distance. Despite the officer's obvious trumpeting of his comrades, I felt sincerely impressed by their efforts, and grateful too.

After the fact, I reflected on it.

Gratefulness- to be alive.

That's a new feeling. Or rather, a long-lost feeling, come back after so much hardship I had forgotten it existed.

The doctors explained that my prolonged illness (three weeks of nausea, headaches, muscle seizures, and anemia) was the result of stuffing myself inside a device designed to digitize Pokémon. Not a brilliant idea as regards to my long term health, but it worked.

I smiled.

Despite the severity of the situation, I really enjoyed seeing my Pokémon working together like that. It made me feel like we were more than a team- we were family. Brothers in arms, as the military guys like to put it.

This thought made me realize they hadn't returned my Pokémon. I asked, and the only answer I was given was that they were safe and in somebody else's custody. When they finally let me go, without fanfare or guidance or my Pokemon, I was in a rather grouchy mood.

"Hey!"

Lyra waved to me from the street curb outside the base.

"Pest," I murmured.

Typical of her- she skipped up to a way-too-close-to-my-face distance and tortured me with an extreme close-up of her brimming smile.

"Guess what?"

"What?"

She held up my open wallet, with ID in clear-plastic sleeve.

"Today's your birthday."

I swatted her away, taking her stupid hat off with the motion. She went chasing after the thing, which, due to the strong wind coming off the ocean, wasn't a simple task.

"That's a fake ID, not my real birthday. Dummy."

"Really? Does that mean Silver isn't your real name?!"

My eyes. They could melt holes through Jupiter right now.

"Whah… what… what… did you… honestly… HONESTLY… think someone would name their kid after a precious metal?!?!" I spouted.

"Well, I don't know. Ethan's last name means "gold" in the old language, so it kind of made sense to me…" Her cheeks are turning roses.

"You're unbelievable."

She's a one-of-kind ditz is what she is. Gar! Why didn't I take Cyndaquil? I deserve that broke-mon way more than her!

"So what is your real name?" Lyra asked.

"Richard. But don't call me that."

"Why? It's kind of ordinary, nothing to really be proud of or hate, just a good, normal name." She shrugged. "Nothing to get upset over."

"Don't you know what Richard is shortened to?"

"Rich? Richie? Rick?" she guessed in rapid-fire fashion.

"Dick."

"Oh, that's weird…" she caught my scowl, got the hint, and for once, shut up.

"Hey, Dick, wanna suck mine? Dicks! Dicks! I got eleven Dicks for ya! Dicky-boy! Who wants dicks, Dickbrain!" I mimed in mocking, bitter tone of voice. "Ten years of that crap, from every kid in school, my teachers, my so-called friends, the Rocket grunts- once, even my father, and he gave me that name! I can't stand it."

Lyra's expression softened. As if she's fawning.

"I get it. That's fine. I like Silver better, anyways. It's kind of exotic and suits your personality."

I tried imagining what the personified element of Ag would act like, and failed.

"So did you come to just annoy me, or did you have a purpose being here?"

"Do I really need a purpose? You're my friend! I want to make sure you're safe and happy!"

"I'm your rival."

"Of course! That too. Rivals should always stick up for one another, to make sure no one else beats them first! I'm the only one allowed to defeat you!"

"You're not serious?"

"No, of course not. I'm not _that_ clueless."

She stuck out her hands, both of them. I cringed, thinking she was about to engage a tickling attack to my midriff. Instead, she gestured over and over again. I dared a glance, and found Pokeballs being offered up to me.

"My Pokémon."

"Yep!"

"Thank you." I took them, pawed them one by one.

"Feraligatr," I said, summoning my first and mightiest. He looked gruff and bored, and the barest sign that he had missed his trainer was given: a gentle whack on the leg with his tail. Heh. I would expect nothing less from the brute.

"Wait, I count seven here."

"Right. About that…" Lyra glanced behind her.

A second figure, who had hung back and out of sight, now strode up to us.

Lance, in his full Dragon Master regalia.

"Lance… sir."

"Silver." He nodded towards me. Without another word, he stuck his hand out to me. I gawked at it for a moment, sensed the adult's stern impatience, and so shook it.

"You did a great service to humanity and the Kanto region. I'm glad I was right in giving you a chance."

"Thanks. I guess."

"You don't seem happy."

"It's just, I don't think I've proved it yet. You know, what you told me back at Mahogany base. To be a good person and a good trainer."

"So you say." Lance checked his wrist watch. "I don't have a lot of time, Brach and his cronies are expecting me at Indigo Plateau. So let's get to the point." He pointed to the seventh, unidentified pokeball in my collection. "Release it."

I obeyed.

" _TARRRR!_ "

I stepped back, in near horror.

My heart raced.

The Pokémon saw Feraligatr, huffed, and paced to the other side of me. Otherwise, though, it wasn't very threatening.

"Is this really it?"

"Yes. This is your father's Tyranitar."

I frowned. What is it doing here? Lance saw my expression and guessed its meaning.

"You are going to be its new trainer."

"Me? No way. It needs to be locked away. It's a monster."

Lance smacked me across the cheek, although not hard; just enough to get my attention.

"Wasn't it you who pleaded for Feraligatr's life? Wasn't it you who professed that trainers are responsible for the character of their Pokémon? Don't blame this creature for the warped ambitions of that being who sired you. You don't have to be an emotional slave to that madman, and neither does this unfortunate creature. Our biologists have done the best they can to undo the genetic modifications. This Tyranitar will never again be capable of "Ultra-evolving"; and thank the gods, too; that was an abomination against nature."

I nodded in agreement.

Tyranitar wouldn't look at me when I turned to size it up. Walking around the great big monster (big as in the ordinary "big" of the giant mountain Pokémon species, not the kaiju-sized titan we fought on the ship), and I saw a lot of power, a lack of discipline, and a certain amount of shame in the way it avoided direct eye contact. This was going to be a long, hard project, getting him in shape.

"It… he… has a name, apparently." Lance held up a digital notepad. "Lancaster." The notepad let out a holographic field. It swept over me and then chimed. "You are now officially registered as its owner."

"I'll do my best."

"You'd better."

He began to leave us, but strangely, was headed into the navy base, not back the way he'd come.

"Where're you going?" I asked.

"There's a prisoner I have to meet. He's agreed to cooperate with us by identifying the Rocket networks. I'm going to offer a leniency deal in exchange."

"Do you mean Proton?"

"Proton? Oh, yes, I believe that is what he calls himself. Farewell."

"Hey, hey, Lancaster! That's a cool name! Why not nickname all of our Pokémon?" Lyra suggested.

"No."

"Like Brutus! Feraligatr the brutal Brutus! See, he likes it! Hey, I know! Do you wanna trade? They built a brand new Pokecenter at Pallet! I have a Gligar… he doesn't get along with my other Pokémon. Too temperamental. I think he'd go great with you."

I was about to protest, but on reflection, I palmed another Pokeball of mine.

Kadabra was kind of a sociopath. Not the bad kind, really. But of all my Pokémon, he'd taken my early bullying and internalized it. Perhaps too much. The Pokémon might not know the meaning of joy, or empathy, or love. Maybe it'll be better if he spends time with an all-loving goofball like her.

"How do you feel about an Alakazam?" I mused.

"Alakazam? I'd love one!"

"Lyra! Lyra! Silver!"

Ethan appeared beside a taxi, waving us over.

"That's our ride. Let's go."

This silly girl in her stupid hat and carefree, unbearably optimistic attitude grabbed me by the hand and dashed forward, dragging me with her.

"Wait! I don't think all my Pokémon can fit in that car!" I yelped.

 

* * *

 

It would remiss to say I healed, then and there.

Most nights, I stay up late, rolling over and over in whatever constituted my bed at the time. I see the same blurred image of a man walking out the door, after a long night where he and my mother shouted and shouted till the rafters rattled with their mutual anger and despise. I feel like I'm permanently camping in the middle of a dark, dangerous wood, with a menacing pair of eyes flitting between the trees. Not knowing when or where the monster, the real man-shaped monster, will someday come back to get me. Agonizing and aggravating my memory, trying to rectify the ideal I had formed about my mother with the reality of who she was and how she thought of me.

No day comes easy.

But it comes.

And every passing of the sun, it gets more bearable.

The little things don't bother me much anymore. I learned to joke. Ethan tells me I have a great sense of humor, if wry and a little dark. My time spent amidst Team Rocket members was a good source for that kind of comedy. Lyra laughs, and then excitedly tries to challenge me to battles with absurd rules, like, "Triple battle, and we both have a baby Azurill, and you have to keep the Azurill on the field for the whole fight, and the first to KO the baby wins!"

I met with Professor Elm. I didn't really want to offer to return Brutus back to him. But I did, because it was the right thing to do. Luckily, he saw Brutus' loyalty and affection towards me, and decided against splitting us up. I thanked him for it.

We met some of Lyra and Ethan's old traveling companions. A famous trio from Pallet, calling themselves Green, Blue, and Red- what's with the color-coded names? Are their parents hippies? Those can't be their real names! And besides, that's my gig! Okay, ranting aside, Blue and Green turned out to be pretty cool, but the Red fellow was kind of distant. I tried battling him… bad idea.

If Lyra's Typhlosion is a freak of nature, this guy had a whole team of freaks.

0-5.

KOing one of his overpowered pieces of *beepbeep* was cold comfort in the face of the overall dismantling I had to suffer through.

But I digress.

Things change.

People change.

I've changed. In the past year, I've learned, literally, everything there was about being a trainer, and being a decent human being. I'm not saying I'm perfect, but if I was allowed to gloat a little bit, I'd say no human on this planet has made as big a swing from evil to good as I have. I guess that makes me proud. Okay, at least, when I look into Brutus' eyes, and Lancaster's eyes, and see how readily these once-vicious killers now respect me, and feel so benevolent towards others, and I know I was a big part in that change of attitude, it makes me feel like my pride is justified.

I'm no diamond in the rough. Everything that is good about me, wasn't there at the start. It had to be created, slowly, agonizingly, by some invisible process of alchemy. I don't understand what magic it took for me to realize what was important in life. I do realize that I'm not done changing- I'm merely a hunk of silver, not yet gold, not even refined or shaped into something "beautiful". But the possibility is there. All thanks to something that's been acting upon me, ever since I stumbled into a goofball wearing stockings and overalls and a toadstool-shaped hat. Something I think is called "love".

 

* * *

 

What next, then?

Well, fortunately, that's not too hard to figure out, although it'll be mind-numbingly hard to figure out how to go about doing it.

"Hey, who is this?"

"You would have been my daddy."

"The hell?"

"It's a joke. This is Silver."

"Silver? Silver?! Damn. What are calling me for?"

"You just got off house arrest, didn't you? I need your help."

"Help? With what?"

"Finding what's left of Team Rocket. Taking them over. Turning them into something worthwhile. Finding my father, and bringing him to justice. And mainly…"

I grit my teeth.

"Your lover and my mother- We're going to find Ariana."

  

* * *

 

The End

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading Transmutation. I hope you enjoyed it, and welcome any and all criticism, praise, and questions. Although this ends Silver's role as protagonist, you can read a little more about him in this series' main work, Olivine Romance.


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